


Steve Rogers and The Joys Of Being A Step-Parent (A.K.A. Tony Stark needs a hug, Howard Stark needs a hug, and Bucky Barnes does not have time for this shit)

by MoMoMomma



Series: The Joys of Step-Parenting [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AU, Age Difference, Angst, Bucky does not have time for this shit, Cock Rings, Comeplay, Consensual Violence, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Genderplay, Howard Stark is secretly not a dick, Implied Past Molestation of a Child, Impregnation!kink, M/M, Maria Stark is a shit mother, Masturbation, Neither does Steve, Night Terrors, Obadiah is a creepy mother, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Rape/Non-con, Phone Sex, Prostitution Roleplay, Rape, Rape Aftermath, References to Abuse, Rimming, Sex Toys, Smoking, Spanking, Statutory Rape, Step-parenting is hell, Teen!Tony, Tony Needs To Stop Opening Doors Without Permission, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:24:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 75,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's life is going fantastic; he's got the best friend a guy could ask for, his art is better than ever, and every night he gets pounded into a very lush mattress by the richest man in the world. However, good is only good for so long. When Howard's teenage son Tony comes to stay the summer after graduating from MIT, Steve's suddenly thrust into the role of step-father to a boy who can't even spend 10 minutes in his own father's presence without screaming profanities. It's now his job to make father and son get along again. When did his life become a Hallmark movie?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet Anthony Stark

**Author's Note:**

> From the kinkmeme prompt: Howard and Maria have been divorced for a few years but teenage Tony's still pissed off at his dad and blames him for the breakup of his family. Howard's not a bad dad but due to his workaholic lifestyle, often forgets his son is living in the same house, more and less the same continent. Cue Howard meeting younger artist!Steve at one of the gallery openings that the head of Stark Industries is forced to attend and falling in love with him, followed by a whirlwind romance and proposal.Tony? He's not happy at all that he'll soon be having someone 10 years older than (or whatever age, I imagine Steve to be in his mid 20s) becoming his new step parent, and antagonizes the hell out of Steve since he thinks Steve is only in it for the money. Cue sugar daddy digs and gold digger remarks from Tony! But not to worry, Steve actually manages reconcile father and son and the Starks like happily ever after.

“Who the hell are you?”

Steve brought his head up from sketch he was curled over, Howard’s form half laid onto the page with gentle strokes of the no. 2 he was holding. Turning towards the doorway of the sunrorom he'd claimed as his art studio, he met the eyes of…well, of Howard 30 years ago.

The boy standing in the doorway, feet planted firmly and arms crossed over his chest, couldn’t have been more than 16 or 17 and truly did look like a younger version of Steve’s lover. Well, younger and about 15 pounds heavier. Even at his age Howard was still whipcord thin, no doubt because the man lived off food he could eat on the go and coffee. Steve had seen this boy before, in pictures on the mantle, in Howard’s desk drawer, and under the visor of Howard’s favorite car.

He placed the pencil to the side and stood, the rolling chair sliding smoothly backwards.

“You must be Tony, Howard’s told me a lot about you.”

“Really? Fascinating, because he’s never once mentioned you.”

The ice in Tony’s stare and words nearly made Steve think twice about extending his hand. But if Steve could shake hands with Howard’s skeevy business partner Obadiah and not be cowed, the teenager in the doorway didn’t stand a chance.

Offering up his palm, he smiled at the younger boy, keeping his shoulders relaxed even under the force of the boy’s withering glare.

“I’m sure you had better things to talk about. I’m Steve, nice to meet you.”

Tony sized him up and down before begrudgingly shaking his hand, manners over-riding any distaste he might have had with the situation. Footsteps echoed down the hall, Steve had learned early on to distinguish the sound of Howard’s wingtips from the other shoes in the household, and the way it sounded, the billionaire was hauling towards the room. Steve felt his brow crease in concern. Howard never ran anywhere, except on the treadmill in his state of the art gym. He stepped around the still frowning teen and stuck his head into the hallway, bracing himself on the door jambs.

Sure enough, Steve’s lover was coming down the hall at a quick pace, only to slow himself considerably once he saw Steve. He smiled gently at the man, taking in the tie pulled loose at his neck, the disheveled hair and the tightness around his brow. Howard must have had quite the day at work.

He waited until the older man was within arm’s reach before snaking an arm out into the corridor, wrapping it around Howard’s waist and tugging him in for a kiss.

Well, it was supposed to be a kiss.

What happened instead was that Howard twisted his head at the last minute and Steve’s lips brushed his temple. He blinked as the man slowly extracted himself from Steve’s arms and gently pushed him back into place inside the sunroom, leaving him face to face with his son.

Steve tried to not let the hurt show on his face, he really did, but the tightening at the corners of Howard’s eyes told him he wasn’t completely successful in that endeavor. Howard was usually incredibly affectionate when he got home, especially after a bad day. He’d throw himself into the massive chaise lounge in his study and have Steve curl up between his legs, letting the feeling of Steve’s nimble fingers tracing patterns on his stomach lull him out of his irritation.

But today there was a tenseness to his shoulders that wasn’t generally present and Steve had a pretty good idea of what was causing it.

“Tony, welcome home. How was your flight in?”

“Great, stellar, would’ve stayed longer if I’d been able. Who’s your cabana boy?”

Steve felt his cheeks flush and looked down, rubbing one bare foot on top of another as he heard Howard growl. He’d heard worse, of course, but coming from a family member it seemed so much harsher.

“Dammit, can we have 5 minutes of normalcy?”

“Normalcy? I suppose we could, if I hadn’t come home to some random twink hanging out in my house. Here, how about I’ll flip him a couple hundred, he leaves early and we can sit down and play a nice game of Parcheesi, yeah?”

“Jesus Christ, Anthony, he’s not a rent boy!”

The true anger in Howard’s voice brought Steve’s head up and he blinked at the scene. Howard and Tony had taken on identical positions, arms crossed, legs planted and equal looks of anger and irritation on their faces. Like this, it was so beautiful to see glimpses of a younger Howard reflected in Tony’s body, and to see the mature version of Tony reflected in Howard. Steve grasped all the nuances he could, saving the image to put down onto paper later. He glanced backwards towards his sketchpad, wishing desperately the situation would be appropriate to grab it and rush out a rough sketch.

But right now, staying as still and as quiet as he could seemed the best option.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dad. What is he then? Pool boy? Gardner? Oh, wait! Wait, no, I’ve seen this movie before, he’s the personal assistant here to make sure you ‘have _everything_ you need, Mr. Stark.’”

Steve bit back a grin. He could practically see the air quotes Tony had thrown up around his words. It was insulting, that much was true, but the band of gold around Steve’s finger assured him he had a place in this household, a place of value. So this whole scene was uncomfortable, yes, but also a bit funny. He thought idly that if Tony and Bucky ever came face to face, the world would spontaneously combust in self-defense.

The crack of flesh against wood brought his head around sharply and he blinked at the fist Howard had slammed into the sun room wall. Tony hadn’t flinched but Steve instinctively brought his hands up, though he froze at Howard’s next snarled words.

“He is my _husband_. He, Anthony Edward Stark, is your new step-father. You show him the respect he deserves or you will find your access to everything in this house restricted so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

Steve had only heard Howard use that tone once before, near the very beginning of their relationship, when Bucky had gotten 2 inches from the man’s face and asked him if Howard thought that he, a former boozehound womanizing workaholic, was good enough for Steve. If he recalled correctly Bucky and Howard had damn near come to blows, and then a couple days later Bucky had called Steve up swearing a blue streak about how Howard had apparently bought him a new car and had it left in the driveway with the words ‘good enough now?’ scribbled on the windshield. 

Bucky had raged that his acceptance could not be bought by rich, arrogant bastards. Steve had suggested Bucky just return the car. Bucky had gotten very quiet, hung up, and then showed up the next night for dinner in said car, with a pair of aviators, the only type of sunglasses Howard would wear, perched jauntily atop his head. He’d defended that he was proud, not stupid, and that it would have taken him 5 or 6 years of living on nothing and saving every penny to afford even half of that car.

Don’t get Steve wrong, Howard and Bucky still almost came to blows sometimes, but it was now rare and their affection for each other was thinly veiled behind taunts about age and profession.

That wasn’t the case with Tony and Howard, though.

Tony’s face twisted and he shot a disgusted look at Steve, directing his next words to him.

“ _ **Husband**_?! You’re old enough to have graduated college, and you live here so what are you fishing for, huh? Enough time to get spousal support post-divorce? My dad’s lawyers aren’t stupid, you signed a pre-nup, but there’s still gotta be something you want. Info on StarkTech, a look behind the scenes for your tell-all book, something. What’s in this for you? What do you get out of this arrangement?”

That’s it.

Steve was a generally nice person, and fighting was never really his style, but Tony was being a brat and a bully, neither of which Steve had any patience for.

He held up a hand to stop Howard, whose mouth was already open to no doubt fire a barb right back at Tony and smiled in the boy’s direction.

“I get screwed through the mattress every night by one of America’s most influential men. That’s what’s in it for me.”

Tony’s features curled immediately in disgust and he held his hands over his ears and groaned dramatically, though Steve knew he saw a momentary flash of respect in those eyes.

“Jesus, Mary, and Jenna fucking Jameson, I DO NOT wanna hear about your sex life. God, has R&D invented a brain bleaching device yet? No? Up to me then, I’m gonna need it, fuck.”

“Watch your mouth, Tony,” Howard snapped at him, though he too was looking at Steve with a gobsmacked expression.

Tony removed his hands from his ears and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I used such filthy language in front of your _obviously_ virginal boytoy. Whatever. I’m going to find Jarvis.”

And with those words he spun on his heel, exactly how Howard did when walking away from arguments, and strode down the hall, muttering the whole time about old men and mid-life crisis’ and how he hadn’t signed up for this shit.

Steve grinned at his back, feeling immaturely victorious about the whole thing before turning to face Howard and stopping dead. Howard’s face was still in the incredulous expression it had been, arms now hanging loose at his sides.

“Uh, I…I’m sorry?” Steve chuckled nervously, unused to seeing Howard Stark, of all people, at a loss for words.

That seemed to snap Howard out of his trance and he sputtered before charging forward, wrapping his hands around Steve’s biceps and pushing him backwards as well. Steve let himself be shoved along, suddenly fearful that he really had screwed up big time. He knew Howard had never seen him snap at anyone, let alone use language like that, but he thought…maybe with Tony because he was younger, it’d be alright. He talked like that with Bucky when they were alone. 

Dammit, he’d made a huge-

“Do you have any idea how fucking hot that was, darling boy?”

Ummm….what?

Steve’s thighs hit the edge of the table and Howard kept pushing until he was sprawled back against it, the tips of his toes brushing the floor and Howard looming between his spread thighs, hands unwrapped from his skin and planted on either side of him.

He grinned at Steve, the light from the massive French doors that opened into Steve’s private garden catching the gray at his temples and the lines in his face, showing Steve just how beautifully Howard Stark was aging. Steve smiled back and pushed himself up onto his forearms, tensing up his pectorals and relishing in the way Howard’s eyes naturally dipped to ogle him. 

For someone who’d grown up as a skinny, asthmatic nothing who still had the heart and fight of a mastiff, Steve had always prayed one day he’d look more like Bucky, not insanely ripped or tall, but a nice normal 6’ with maybe not huge muscles but at least clearly defined ones.

The answer to his prayers had come in the form of Doctor Abraham Erskine, a medical genius who was working on a revolutionary plan to enable the human body to reach its peak potential in a way no one else had. However, after allowing Steve to be the guinea pig for the treatment, Dr. Erskine was killed by a drunk driver and took the final portion of his formula to the grave, leaving everyone unable to unlock the secrets of human DNA like he had.

As for Steve? He’d started packing on weight and muscle overnight, as well as shooting up another foot almost. He didn’t have any more asthma attacks, hadn’t had a cold in the ten years that had passed since then, and could run faster, jump higher, and was just, in general, better than anyone else he’d ever met. 

He’d learned a few new things about himself after meeting Howard as well, like his ability to drink and drink and drink and stay sober as a nun, and that his refractory period for sex was practically non-existent, a fact Howard often grumbled about.

A slow stroke over his stomach brought him out of his thoughts and he blinked at the man still leaning over him. Howard’s brown eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint that only showed up when they were alone and he leaned forward to press their lips together, chuckling at the feel of Howard’s moustache brushing against his skin.

He could practically see Howard rolling his eyes as he mumbled against Steve’s mouth.

“A year and you still aren’t used to it.”

Steve pulled back and grinned widely, scooting himself down the table until his thighs pressed tight against the outside of Howard’s.

“Well, no one my age wears moustaches anymore. It’s a different feeling.”

Howard groaned and dropped his head onto Steve’s shoulder, idly nuzzling the skin of his throat. That was another surprise Steve had gotten when Howard had taken him to bed the first time; he’d only seen Howard Stark how everyone else saw him, a ruthless businessman with cutthroat tactics who probably fucked like he did business, efficient and to-the-point. Instead, he got a man who preferred to cuddle post-sex and nuzzle his partners.

Though he hadn’t been wrong about how Howard was in bed, the man was incredibly competent and worked hard to wring every moan and cry out of Steve that he could.

“Stop reminding me how much younger you are, Tony will be doing enough of that this summer as it is.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed at Howard’s disgruntled tone. It’d taken a lot of convincing to Howard that Steve wanted him, and wouldn’t rather be with other men his own age and he still asked Steve if he was sure he’d made the right decision being with someone more than two decades older than him. He pressed a kiss to Howard’s temple and thought back over the man’s words.

“Summer? He’s staying here for the summer? I thought you said he normally spends summers with his mom.”

Howard leaned back with a peevish look on his face until he was once again braced above Steve.

“He usually does but Maria’s off in Aspen playing snowbunny for her new fling so she’s shoved him off on me.”

Steve’s hand landed against Howard’s shoulder in a disapproving smack and he frowned at the man.

“Howard! He’s your son, not a dog you got roped into watching for the weekend. You should be glad for this time with him! Maybe now that he’s out of college and you’ve gotten your company sorted out you two could bond a bit.”

Howard huffed and stood straight to cross his arms over his chest.

“Let it go, babe. I can see the look in your eyes already. This is not a Lifetime movie, we’re not going to go to some party where I suddenly realize that Tony is just me when I was younger, and we have this touching moment where I put a hand gently on his shoulder and I call him son and he smiles back but doesn’t call me dad yet because they’re saving that for the big climax. You saw about how well he and I get along.”

Steve sighed and pressed a kiss to Howard’s Adam’s apple, holding onto the man’s shoulders.

“Why?”

“Why what, darling?”

“Why do you two hate each other?”

The tensing was Steve’s warning and he crossed his feet behind the older man, effectively ending his attempts at escape. Howard sighed and ran his fingers through Steve’s hair, mussing the blonde locks.

“I don’t hate him, though I can’t say the same for Tony. I was a shit father when he was younger, too concerned with trying to make weapons and keep my company from being taken over to pay attention to a child who was desperately hoping for my attention. And then after I walked in for the umpteenth time with yet another man in my bed and finally threw Maria out, I was too deep into the liquor bottles and loose women to take care of a kid who needed his father. I ordered nobody tell him why Maria and I had split, I was sober enough to know he didn’t need to know that about his mom so he thinks it was just me being an asshole. But that’s about the only good thing I ever did, and he still to this day blames me for the divorce and just about everything else.”

Steve frowned and pressed another gentle kiss to Howard’s throat, holding the man close. Talking about his past was still something Howard struggled with and every piece he gave up to Steve was like pulling teeth.

“Thank you for telling me that.”

“Not much I can deny you, darling. So do you understand why Tony and I getting along is about as likely as water mixing with oil?”

Steve pulled back and set his shoulders, locking eyes with the older man who sighed. He was determined to set things right with Howard and Tony, his own unfortunate relationship with his father pushing him to patch up their relationship.

And now he had the whole summer to do it.

“You’re not going to let this go are you?”

Steve’s response was cut off by what sounded like cannonballs hitting the still open door and he leaned around Howard to see Tony twisted with one hand over his eyes and body facing away, fist stretched out and resting against the door.

“Jarvis says dinner’s ready. If you guys are done defiling the sunroom, you’re welcome to come eat.”

Steve smiled and hopped off the table, pressing a loud and sloppy kiss to Howard’s cheek and whispering just loudly enough for Tony to hear, “maybe later you can feed me some dessert.”

Tony’s anguished wail, and Howard’s groan, was almost drowned out by Steve’s happy laughter.

This summer was going to be very, very fun.


	2. Body Armor Is Appropriate Stark Dinner Attire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the dining room becomes a battle ground, Steve helps Howard relax, and hatches a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for; slight genderplay, impregnation kink, consensual name-calling, technical Daddy!kink, and the Stark boys' filthy mouths.

This summer was going to be hell.

They’d sat down to a delicious spread of food twenty minutes ago and so far Tony had insinuated Steve was; out to take over Howard’s company, shacking up with a sugar daddy so he didn’t have to get a real job, and, in a _particularly_ wild accusation, a private assassin hired by Howard’s competitors to take him out.

If Howard drank his scotch any faster he was going to be unconscious by the end of the meal.

Steve honestly found the whole thing amusing and kept himself occupied during the barrage of insults by running his still bare feet up and down Howard’s calves, delighting in the annoyed looks the man kept shooting him.

He hummed and nodded along with Tony’s monologue, pausing for a moment when Jarvis stopped by his elbow and went to re-fill his wine glass. Steve put his fingers atop to glass and shook his head, smiling up at the older man who’d been nothing but polite and was one of the few people who hadn’t judged their relationship.

“No thank you, Jarvis, I’ll drink water from now on.”

Tony noticed this, which wasn’t all that surprising; the boy had a mind like a super computer and noticed everything from the fact that Howard was eating more to Steve’s habit of eating his food by groups.

“You’re stopping after one glass? Either you’re a lightweight, or living with Count Drunkula over here has put you off the hooch for good.”

Steve turned but his reply was cut short by Howard slamming his glass tumbler down and rising half out of his seat, hands planted on the table.

“Anthony Edward Stark, I’ve had just about **enough** of these ridiculous insinuations.”

Tony copied his pose, throwing his napkin down onto the table. Steve could feel the tension flow through Jarvis as the man stayed paused at his side.

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t get it. I don’t even get a simple call saying you met someone and I get home and you’re married to a man I’ve never even seen before. Color me confused Dad, because every single time I’ve seen you in the papers you were wrapped around some whore with huge tits. Hell, I’m the damn conductor of the equal-love train so I’m the last person to judge, but it’d have been nice to know you were straddling the compartments.”

Howard’s face flushed red with rage and he stood up fully, whole body a tense and trembling mass of fury.

“A call?! Every goddamn time I tried to call and talk to you, you acted like it was a pain in the ass and gave me some shit excuse to get off the phone five minutes into the conversation. And that’s when you bothered to answer the damn call. What I do in my personal life is **none** of your business Tony, and neither I, nor Steve, have to explain myself to you. So shut your fucking mouth and let’s have one normal dinner. Sit. Down. Now.”

“Fuck you, old man!” Tony snarled, and picked up his wineglass, shattering it against the far wall. 

Now Steve was on his feet too, ushering Jarvis back into the kitchen and stopping any of the cooks or servers from entering the new battle zone. He slumped against the wall next to the swinging door and winced at the sound of escalating screams and dishes being shattered emanating from the dining room.

He cast a look at Jarvis, who was shooing away the kitchen workers back to their duties, and gestured to the room with a toss of his head.

“Is it always like that?”

Jarvis turned back towards him with a sad expression on his face, putting the wine bottle onto the kitchen island.

“Unfortunately, yes. Mister Stark and the young sir have never gotten along particularly well. The divorce exacerbated the problem, teenage hormones did even more damage but I fear this now will deal the heaviest blow of all.”

Steve winced at a particularly loud boom that sounded like someone had flipped the dining table.

“Is it-I mean, I can’t help but feel like this is all my fault.”

“I can see how you would feel that way, sir, but I assure you this was not your fault. Mister Stark deserves to be happy and you bring him much happiness, I can’t see how that can be a bad thing. Those two haven’t been in the same room together for over 3 years now, since before young Anthony left for college. I expected some discord though,” Jarvis stopped his speech and winced as Tony let out a string of filthy profanity and something else shattered in response.

“This is more than even I expected.”

Steve huffed out a frustrated breath and straightened from his slump, setting his shoulders. He’d had enough of this. Howard and Tony were both acting like children and he was done with it.

Spinning, he shoved open the door and stepped into the room, pausing in horror at the chaos. Even if one ignored the fact that Howard and Tony were still a foot away from each other screaming at the top of their lungs, the room alone told the story of the fight.

The table was over-turned, the dinner laying scattered over the floor. A scotch stain was on one wall, matching the blood red one where Tony’s wine glass had shattered. Plates and bowls lay in pieces on the floor, along with some of the vases that had sat around the room. Howard’s liquor cabinet had been ripped open; a hole in the glass of one door suggesting someone had used alternative means to open it. 

A few of the bottles from said cabinet also laid smashed on the floor, one still cracked open on the side table with a few swallows worth missing.

Steve hooked two fingers into his mouth and let out a piercing whistle, bringing Tony and Howard’s heads around towards him, effectively stopping the screaming. His ears rang in the sudden silence and he put his hands on his hips, surveying the two.

“That’s enough, from the both of you! I know you two don’t give a damn, but look at what you guys have done! It’s going to take everyone a ton of time to clean up this disaster.”

Tony snorted and turned on his foot, heading out of the room.

“Not like it’s anything they’re not used to from the old man’s drunken rages. I’m going to call mom and tell I’ll sit in the hotel during all of her meetings, but my ass isn’t staying here. Later, Pops, it’s been…fucking horrible. See you in another 3 years. Maybe we’ll wreck the living room next time.”

With a final jaunty wave over his shoulder, he slammed the open dining room door behind him. Steve shook his head and looked back to where Howard was righting an over-turned chair. He slumped down into it, elbows braced on wide spread knees, face buried in his hands. Steve crossed the room carefully, avoiding stepping on anything and wishing for once he wore shoes more often around the house.

Kneeling in front of Howard, he pulled the man’s hands away from his face and held them in his own. Howard’s head came up slowly and Steve blinked at the completely wrecked look on his lover’s face. 

“Oh, Howie, baby.”

He cupped the man’s hands in his face and pressed their foreheads together, scooting closer. Howard sighed shakily, the scotch on his breath scenting the air between them.

“Every time, every damn time I try, and I try, and Tony pushes me away. How the hell am I supposed to get through to someone who doesn’t want me around?”

Steve ran a hand through the man’s hair, dislodging it from the neatly gelled style Howard had swept it back into before dinner.

“Sweetie, to be honest, I think you try too hard. Tony has a lot of anger and resentment and trying to act like it never happened isn’t working, so stop trying. You act like his father-“

“Because I _am_ his father!”

Steve leveled a glare at his lover, pulling back and arching a brow.

“You yourself said you were a shit father when he was younger. And now when he comes back you jump back in like you were always there. It’s natural that he’s going to rebel against it. Maybe you need to change tactics?”

Howard sighed again and dropped his head back into his hands. Steve glanced over to where Jarvis had just entered the room and shook his head, motioning for the older man to leave for the moment. Jarvis nodded and mimed that he would lock the swinging door before stepping back through it.

Steve looked towards where Howard was lying slumped on the chair, head resting on the high curved back. He bit his lip, and shrugged to himself. Howard was tense and stressed and Steve knew at least one way to make him feel better.

He slid his hands up Howard’s inner thighs, laying a soft kiss on the inside of one knee. Howard’s head snapped up off the back of the chair and he looked down incredulously at Steve.

“Baby, what the hell are you doing?”

He grinned up at Howard and fluttered his lashes.

“I just thought I could make my Big Daddy feel better.”

Howard huffed out a breath and narrowed his eyes.

“Really? You’re going to do this _now_? Surrounded by the remnants of a knock down drag out with my son?”

The thickening bulge in his pants belied his words and Steve grinned, setting his chin on one knee.

“Aww, c’mon Big Daddy, your little slut just wants to make you feel good. Is that so much to ask?”

Howard swore and reached down to cup Steve’s face, pulling him up for a kiss that was more teeth than anything else. He pulled back as he shifted his grip on Steve’s face, one hand gripping Steve by the jaw and the other dropping to his knee.

“My little slut wants to make me feel better, huh?”

Steve nodded furiously, tongue poking out to wet his lips.

“Yes, Big Daddy, I wanna make you feel good. Can I? Can I make you feel good?”

“Yeah,” Howard breathed out, one hand fumbling with his belt and zipper. “Big Daddy wants you to make him feel real good, darling little slut.”

Steve scooted closer as Howard slid his hand to the back of Steve’s head, his other fist gripping his freed erection. Howard pulled his head down gently, not that he had to put much pressure into it anyways, and Steve eagerly leaned forwards, wrapping his lips around the very tip.

Howard groaned low and let go of his cock, reaching around to cup both hands behind Steve’s head.

He grinned around his lover’s erection and went to town, wrapping a fist around him to pump in time with the harsh sucks.

Pressure disappeared from his head and from the corner of his eye he saw Howard shift his hands down to the arms of the chair, the skin of the knuckles white from how hard he was gripping them.

“Fuck, yes, suck me little slut. Suck me down.”

Steve moaned and dropped his hand to Howard’s other thigh, bracing himself as he started swallowing down more and more of Howard’s cock.

Heady groans filled the silence of the room as Steve worked, relaxing his throat and swallowing with an ease born of practice. 

God, he loved this. Loved being on his knees with Howard’s cock down his throat, spit slipping out of his mouth and slicking down the length he hadn’t swallowed yet.

He hadn’t discovered the need to be treated like this, the arousal that came from being called names and shoved around, until one night about 3 months into the relationship when Howard came home from work in a rage. Someone had tried to hack his servers and had almost gotten through due to a back door one of his employees had installed. He’d been in a foul mood, it’d been a whiskey night if Steve recalled correctly, and he’d taken it out on him.

And Steve had loved it.

Howard, when they’d woken up the next morning, had not.

He’d apologized profusely and offered him everything from a new car to a villa in Spain. Steve had laughed it all off then blushingly confessed how much he’d liked it. Howard’s shocked expression still made Steve chuckle today and he huffed out a laugh as he pulled back for air.

“Something funny?”

He stood Howard’s erection up straight and began to curl his tongue in intricate patterns along the underside in between his words.

“Just remembering the first time we did this, Big Daddy.”

“Ahh, that’s right. God, you looked so cute blushing like that baby slut, telling Big Daddy you liked being called filthy names. Wanna make you blush-ah fuck,yes-like that again. How do you think I can do that?”

Jesus, he’s surprised he wasn’t already. This conversation was making him squirm and he reached down with the hand not holding onto Howard, ripping open his jeans and gingerly pulling out his cock, pumping a hand up and down it.

“I dunno, Big Daddy. Everything you do makes me feel good. I like it all.”

“Yeah, but you don’t blush at it all, do you? No, there’s something in particular that makes you blush isn’t there? I know eating you out does for sure, and making you wear those cute little dresses Big Daddy buys you. But what else? Hmmm, I know there’s got to be something.”

Steve moaned around Howard’s cock and re-doubled his efforts at stripping his own, shuddering as he listened to the man’s low growls. Howard was playing with him; he knew exactly what made Steve blush every single time. But Steve wasn’t going to give up the game.

“Ah, fuck yeah, you’re going to make me cum, darling boy. You want that? You want Big Daddy’s cum?”

Steve nodded and fastened his lips around the head again, slurping noisily as he bucked into his own hand, getting closer and closer to his orgasm as well. One of Howard’s hands slid to the back of his hair, clenching tight and Steve knew that what came out of his mouth next was going to be what threw them both over the edge.

“Yeah, that’s what makes you blush, little cum slut. You want Big Daddy to pump you full and knock you up, huh? Get my little slut pregnant, right? Fill you up and plug you so every drop stays inside. Ah, fuck, Steve, I’m going to cum.”

Steve whimpered and sucked hard, relishing in the feeling of Howard’s hand tightening further in his hair and was quickly rewarded with spurts of warmth hitting his tongue. He twisted his wrist and came hard onto the floor at Howard’s feet, pulling his mouth off once Howard had finished and moaning out his own pleasure with his face half pressed into Howard’s slacks. A thin line of cum slid out of the corner of his mouth and Howard’s hand came down to scoop it up and push it back through his lips.

He licked it off with a neat twirl of his tongue and grinned up at Howard who was laying back against the chair once again, panting like he’d run a marathon.

“Like that, Big Daddy?”

Howard groaned and brought his hands up to press his palms into his eyes.

“Yes, sweetheart, I liked it. Dangerous little boy, you’re an unhealthy addiction, you know that?”

Steve stood, tucking himself back into his pants and zipping up, looking around for something to wipe his cum up with. There were some things even the best housekeepers shouldn’t have to deal with and mopping up after their employer’s sex encounters was one of them.

He spotted a napkin lying a few feet away and snatched it up, kneeling once again to start scrubbing at the spot. Luckily, they’d been atop the hardwood flooring, so he didn’t have to work on getting it out of the carpet. Once it was clean, he folded the napkin carefully, for once happy that Howard had expensive tastes and actually owned and used cloth napkins, and shoved it in his back pocket to throw in the hamper later.

He leaned forwards and propped his chin on Howard’s knee again, smiling at the way a hand drifted down immediately to lazily card through his hair. Post-sex Howard was cuddly and liked to nuzzle, post-Big-Daddy-sex Howard was lazily affectionate and sweet enough to rot out someone’s back teeth.

The first time Steve had brought up calling him ‘Daddy’ Howard had understandably blanched and immediately vetoed the idea, but Steve was persistent. He knew Howard needed to be called something else too, to have another personality to slip into during their games.

‘Sir’ brought up thoughts of his employees, they’d agreed ‘Master’ sounded too much like domination which neither of them cared for, and pet names were too soft for the acts. 

They’d both spent a few weeks thinking on it until it had hit Steve one night when he was lying with his head in Howard’s lap, watching re-runs of the Golden Girls while Howard did paperwork.

He’d twisted his head around until he could see Howard and asked him if there was any way he could help “Big Daddy” relax. Howard had damn near upended the couch in his scramble to bend Steve over the far arm and Steve had limped with a smile for the next two days. A few encounters since then had come close to how frantic and hot that had been; but that memory would always stick in Steve’s mind as the closest he ever got to making Howard Stark snap.

“Stevie's addicted to what Howie's dick did.”

Howard’s groan at Steve’s singsong pun made him laugh and he pressed a kiss to Howard’s knee before climbing to his feet and nudging the man with the side of one foot.

“C’mon, lazy bones, we’ve got to clean up and you need to go apologize to Tony.”

Howard looked up at him like he was insane and Steve huffed out a breath, propping his hands on his hips in what Bucky called his “Angry Momma” pose. The other man sighed and stood up, tucking himself away and surveying the mess.

“One, I have people I pay very good money to clean up after me, even my worst messes. And two, I’m not apologizing to someone who started it.”

“Oh, yes you are, Howard Anthony. Tony may have been being a brat but you escalated it by cursing at him. And it doesn’t matter if they’re paid to fix it, just because busboys are paid to clean the tables doesn’t mean you empty the ketchup bottle onto them. Now, hop to mister!”

He punctuated the command with a slap to Howard’s ass, laughing at the older man’s outraged squawk as he strode towards the swinging door.

Maybe this summer wasn’t going to be so bad after all. If he could get Howard and Tony to get along, it might even turn out to be fantastic.

And he knew just the person to call to ask for help on that.


	3. A Plan Is Afoot!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which vacations are no longer voluntary, Howard Stark cannot say no to Steve, and Tony isn't as much of an ass as he seems.

“Bucky, come on! You promised we’d hang out this week anyways, what does it matter if it’s here or at your house?!”

Steve was completely aware of the whiny tone his voice had taken on.

He was also aware it _worked_.

“Steve, I told you, I’m not hanging around if his bratty son is there. Last thing I need is to deal with another Stark.”

“But Buck, he’s really not that bad. Yeah, he’s antagonistic and rude and insulting, but otherwise he seems like a pretty good kid.”

“Insulting?! Is Stark letting that little shit talk down to you? Forget tomorrow, I’m coming over there right now and I’m gonna-“

“Bucky!” Steve laughed and effectively cut off Bucky’s rant. “I’m fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle, I promise.”

Bucky’s frustrated huff sounded through the phone and Steve grinned, adjusting the ear piece and straightening his pajamas for the last time before exiting the bathroom. He started when he saw Howard bent over with a hand braced on the top of the beds baseboard, pulling off one shoe.

The last time Steve’d seen Howard they had both been tired and dirty from cleaning up the mess, and he’d sent him off to talk to Tony while he showered.

That had only been a half hour ago; Howard shouldn’t be back just yet.

“Hey, Buck, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, bright and early. I want coffee, punk.”

“Always. See you, jerk.”

He waited until the click echoed through the bluetooth, indicating Bucky had hung up, before removing it and tossing it onto the dresser.

“How did it go?”

Howard tossed the other shoe off to land near the one he’d already dropped on the floor and straightened to face him.

“He told me he talked to Maria, apparently she’s going to look at her schedule and see if she can get him out there.”

Steve cocked his head and followed Howard as he strode towards the bathroom.

“I thought she was in Aspen?”

“She is. She’s lying to Tony, she’s going to come up with some excuse as to why he can’t come this week, and next week she’ll come up with a new one. And it’ll go like that the rest of the summer and somehow it’ll all wind up being my fault in the end.”

“That’s not fair! You…you could always tell him the truth?”

Howard whipped around, leaving his belt hanging open, still threaded through the loops.

“ **No**! I’m not going to be the one to tell Tony about that. And neither are you. Tony will find that out on his own, but we’re not going to help him along.”

Steve nodded and reached out to unbutton Howard’s shirt, helping him strip it from his shoulders.

“Alright, alright, fair enough. But what else happened?”

Howard shrugged as he pulled the belt free with a whisper, expensive leather moving against even more expensive fabric. Steve shivered at the sound and Howard shot him a devious grin, folding the belt in half and swinging it lazily in the air between them. Steve huffed and tugged it from his grasp to lay it atop the counter.

“Stop trying to distract me, Howard. What else happened?”

“He told me to stop trying to be his father. That it wasn’t going to happen. And to just leave him alone until Maria sent for him.”

“Oh, honey,” Steve crossed the short distance and took the other man into his arms, leaning back against the counter.

“No, no, Steve, he’s right. It’s not going to happen. I screwed up when he was younger and now I can’t fix it. I wasn’t around then, I can’t just show up now.”

He blinked down and let a grin slide across his face. Howard quirked a brow at him and stepped out of his embrace, stripping off his pants and underwear in one go. Steve licked his lips and reached out to grab a handful of Howard’s ass, grinning at the older man’s yelp. Howard reached back to swat his hand away before leaning in to start the water on the shower.

“What if you could be around?”

“What do you mean?”

Steve spoke over the rush of the water as Howard stepped in and pulled the glass door shut behind him.

“You got the company settled finally right?”

“Yeah, fucking finally. After firing half my staff, cutting ties with bloodthirsty shareholders, and running extensive background checks on all new hires I’m finally content in the knowledge my company will not be ripped out from underneath me while I sleep.”

“So, you’re over-due for a vacation!”

The crash and bang from inside the glass had Steve pulling the door open and sticking his head in, careful to avoid the water. Howard was bent over scrambling to pick up the shampoo bottle leaking out onto the floor and Steve waved the shower door to send a blast of cold air into the steam.

Howard yelped and spun around, glaring at him.

“Out! I didn’t bother you when you were showering!”

Steve laughed and closed the shower door once again, stepping backwards to lean against the counter.

“So why’d you have a spasm, darling?”

“Because I the last time I took off was when Maria was giving birth to Tony.”

Steve clapped his hands together and started out of the bathroom.

“All the more reason! You’re incredibly over-due, Howie. I’ll go let Tony know you’re taking a week!”

As he crossed from the bathroom into the bedroom he could hear Howard sputtering and hollering over the fall of the water and laughed to himself.

He didn’t feel bad in the slightest making Howard take time off. In the year they’d been together Howard hadn’t even taken a half day and he’d seen numerous emails on his phone from Obadiah telling him about his golf game that day. If he could get away with it, there wasn’t any reason why Howard couldn’t.

Taking his time, he strode down the hallway towards the other wing of the house where Tony’s room was. He felt a pang of sadness for the boy as he became more and more aware of just how far Tony had slept from his parents. What if he’d had a nightmare as a child? Crossing a dark house would only make the problem worse. Though the way Howard had made it sound, Tony was more likely to find comfort in his blanket and pillows than from his parents.

Steve paused in front of Tony’s door, cocking his head at the faint voice emanating from within. He raised up a hand and rapped sharply on the door twice before stepping back.

The talking stopped abruptly and he heard a few bangs before the door opened slightly.

Tony rolled his eyes once he caught sight of Steve and swung the door open wide, leaning against the frame with one arm.

“What.”

“Just wanted to let you know Howard’s going to take a week off work, so be thinking of thing’s you’d like to do, okay?”

Tony let out a short bark of laughter, the look of astonishment on his face making him appear even younger.

“He’s taking a week off?”

“Yeah, I asked him to so you guys could spend some time together. His last day is tomorrow.”

What was a little white lie to help along a father and his son’s relationship?

Tony’s eyes narrowed and he blurted out, “wow, you must be fucking awesome in bed.”

Steve offered up a wry grin before chuckling at the red stain spreading across the boy’s cheeks.

“I think I do alright. But why do _you_ think that?”

“My dad doesn’t take time off. Ever. He never has, so either you’ve replaced him with a newer model, or you’re, like, pornstar good.”

Steve grinned and shot the boy a wink.

“Now _that_ is definitely between me and your dad. So whattya say, got anything in particular you’d like to do?”

Tony shrugged, the very picture of disinterest, and to someone older it would’ve looked like he really had nothing in particular in mind. But Steve wasn’t older; he was closer to Tony’s age than to Howard’s and knew what it looked like when a teenager was trying to hide something.

“C’mon,” Steve wheedled, “Tony, there’s gotta be something you want to do. You haven’t been home in 3 years and you’re telling me you didn’t miss anything?”

Tony twitched uncomfortably for a moment before quietly muttering, “the yacht.”

“Hmmm?” Steve leaned forward slightly. “What was that?”

“The yacht, okay? I miss going out on the yacht. But it doesn’t matter because I’m not staying here anyways.”

“But it’s always good to have a back-up plan right? So you guys seriously have a…wait, what am I saying, of course you have a yacht. It’s probably at your summer home in Tampa Bay.”

Tony shot him a curious look and shook his head.

“We don’t have a summer home in Tampa Bay. The yacht stays at the one in Maui.”

Steve blinked dumbly at the boy. In moments like this, it really did occur to Steve that he had married into one of the richest families in the world.

He noticed Tony staring at him with a bewildered expression and laughed nervously, waving a hand in front of him.

“Of course, of course. Well then!” Steve clapped his hands together, making Tony jump slightly.

“We’ll go yachting. I just have to charter a flight-“

“On the StarkJet.”

“On the…excuse me?”

Tony arched a brow at him and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Wow, really? How much do you know about everything you now have half of?”

“Umm,” Steve scratched the back of his neck. “Not…a lot...apparently. But I’m always up for a lesson!”

Tony shook his head and stepped back from the doorway, ushering him in with a lazy wave. 

“Come on, step-father dearest. Let me give you a run-down of just good life is when you’re a Stark.”

He paused, halfway turned away from Steve, and spun back, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You **are** a Stark right? Dad didn’t do something stupid like take your last name?”

Steve rolled his eyes and impulsively shot Tony the bird.

“No, we decided that we’d do it old fashioned. Y’know, me in a white dress, waiting until the honeymoon, him carrying me over the threshold. Why, if I’d given in to temptation the town would label me a harlot and I’d no longer get invited to Lord Barrington’s Winter Solstice Ball.”

Tony’s laughter, Steve decided, when it wasn’t in anger or sarcasm, was remarkably like Howard’s and he smiled in response.

Maybe being a step-parent wouldn’t be so hard after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is so short! I know I fail *hangs head*. But! The next chapter contains smut and Howard!POV and hopefully enough good writing to make up for this awful short thing.


	4. Steve Rogers: Bridge Builder and Big Daddy's Little Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve attempts to build bridges, Jarvis is more than just a butler, Obadiah is not a dick (yet), and Howard knows just how to put his baby girl to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains genderplay/feminization and rimming. It's fairly obvious where it starts and you can skip it without missing any valuable plot information. That being said, I hope this makes up for the awful short creation that was last chapter.
> 
> Enjoy! :D

Howard re-read the email to Obadiah one last time and sighed before hitting send.

He figured he’d shortly get a call from the man and just knew the conversation would leave him feeling more irritated than ever. But what could he do?

Contrary to the norm of the younger women his colleagues dated, Steve actually asked for very little. Getting the man to admit when he was running low on things like the oil paints he liked so much was like trying to pull a rope away from a pit bull puppy, let alone getting him to ask for more important things.

In fact, to date Steve had asked for one extravagant thing from Howard, and he’d been joking at the time.

Well, extravagant for Steve.

The 10,000 dollar Harley Davidson Forty-Eight that sat proudly in the garage next to Howard’s own Lamborghini Aventador LP 700-4 Roadster had been a present for Steve’s birthday and he’d damn near started crying when Howard had unveiled it. 

And then he’d pushed Howard into the back seat of said car and sucked his brains out through his dick.

So if Steve wanted him to spend a week trying to talk to the brick wall that was his son, he could do little else but acquiesce.

He stood from the desk in his study, closed the laptop and wandered out into the hall.

Sticking his hands into the pockets of his dressing gown he strode towards the main staircase that divided the wings of the house. If Steve wasn’t in their bedroom, there were numerous other places he could be. Howard had learned early on the boy had an insatiable curiosity and would randomly wander off, only to be discovered in strange places, fascinated by the rooms in the place he now called home.

He chuckled to himself, remembering once finding Steve stretched out on the floor in the arboretum, having fallen asleep watching the stars through the high glass ceiling.

He stopped at the top of the staircase and leaned over, looking around the foyer.

“Ah, Jarvis!”

The lone figure that had been halfway across the floor stopped and turned towards him, raising his head slightly.

“Sir?”

“Have you seen Steve wandering about?”

Jarvis’ soft laugh echoed in the silence and Howard grinned back, propping his arms on the banister.

“Lost your young lover again, have you sir?”

“The children of today, Edwin, I swear, they’re simply unable to stay in one place. Do you think Steve would mind terribly if I asked him to wear a tracking collar?”

“I believe he would smile and politely inform you where you could put such a collar, Mister Stark.”

Howard threw his head back and laughed, knowing that Jarvis was correct of course. That had been an early stipulation of Steve moving in with Howard. He might have all the control in the bedroom, but Steve was still a free spirit and would chafe under too tight restrictions.

“But, I do believe I heard one of the maids mentioning she’d seen him heading towards the direction of Anthony’s room.”

“Tony’s room?”

Howard straightened and shot Jarvis an alarmed look.

“She’s certain?”

“I can’t say for sure, sir, but as I said it’s what I believe I heard.”

He waved to the man and threw a quick thanks over his shoulder as he hurried off in the direction of Tony’s room. That well-meaning bastard, he’d probably thought to go and further bond with the boy. God knows how Tony was terrorizing him without Howard there to intervene.

He paused just outside Tony’s door and, starting a bit at the laughter he could hear, pressed his ear against the door to hear the loud conversation inside.

“No, you’re not serious! You have to be pulling my leg, kid!”

“I am, I am serious! Why the hell would I lie about that?!”

“Sorry, but I don’t believe your dad had _stripper poles_ installed on the private jet!”

“Hey, believe what you want dude, but I’m telling the truth!”

Howard dropped his face into his palm and resisted the urge to groan. **One time** , one time he’d agreed to let Tony use the jet and forgot to take the poles down and he was still hearing about it, two years later.

Of course he shouldn’t have had them to begin with, but at the time he was trying to bury feelings of insecurity over Maria’s infidelity and stupidly thought the best place to bury said feelings was inside of 20 year old strippers.

He straightened and squared his shoulders, determined to stop this little chat-fest before Steve learned any more about Howard’s stupid mistakes.

Swinging open the door, he stopped short as two heads that had been bent together over a laptop came up in sync.

God, sitting together like they were, Tony folded like a pretzel taking up one side of the bed and Steve likewise curled on the other, both sharing space as they looked at the laptop between them, they looked like the perfect young couple. They were closer in age; it wouldn’t be too far-fetched an idea to think that Steve would want Tony rather than Howard. He quickly shook his head to clear it of such thoughts as Steve grinned widely and leapt off the bed to cross the room and plant a kiss on his cheek.

Tony’s expression had turned thunderous the moment he’d stepped into the room and he crossed his arms over his chest while Howard wrapped one arm around Steve’s waist.

“What is it, pops, did your fun sensors go off telling you to come crash the party?”

He ignored Tony’s barb and pressed a matching kiss to Steve’s cheek.

“I wondered where you’d ran off to.”

“Sorry, Howard, but Tony was showing me everything you guys own and it’s incredible! Did you know that the Stark Jet is the fastest-“

“-Commercial or private jet in existence, barring military grade planes? Yes, sweetheart, I built it.”

Steve blushed and batted at his chest, sticking his tongue out at him tauntingly.

“So Tony and I were just talking about how we’d like to spend the week.”

“Were you now?” Howard looked to where Tony still sat brooding. “Changed your mind about leaving then?”

“Fuck no. It’s all purely hypothetical.”

Howard frowned and opened his mouth to chastise Tony when Steve tugged on his arm, effectively stopping him.

“Howard, please.” He murmured from the corner of his mouth and Howard sighed.

God, what he wouldn’t do for this boy.

He heaved a sigh and pasted on a faint smile, looking to Tony.

“Well either way, the vacation is happening and you’re welcome to join us if you’d like. We can discuss this more tomorrow morning, if you’re still here, and decide where to go from there. In any case, we should all be getting to bed. Goodnight, Tony.”

Tony opened his mouth, no doubt to rebel against Howard’s suggestion, but Steve cut him off quickly, ushering Howard back into the hall and speaking over his shoulder.

“Great idea! Tony, thanks so much for the lesson, I hope we can do it again! Night, sleep well!”

Tony’s door slammed shut in response and Howard stopped where he was, turning with the intent to stomp back to the room and demand Tony bade Steve a good night in return.

“Howard, no. It’s all right.”

“The hell it is! He was raised better than that! I didn’t pour money into private tutors and instructors so he could act like an un-mannered ass.”

A bing went off in the silence after Howard’s statement and Steve frowned, pulling his phone from his pocket. Thumbing across the screen, he laughed and held it out for Howard to see.

There on the screen was a message, from Tony, that read simply said ‘night.’

“See? He’s trying, Howard.”

Howard raised a brow and internally sighed at Steve’s naiveté. 

“Did you give him your phone number, Steve?”

Steve blinked and looked down at the phone, turning it back towards himself.

“Umm…come to think of it, no.”

“Then he’s not trying. He hacked into your phone to get the number. Wishing you a good night doesn’t make up for the invasion of privacy.”

Steve’s eyes softened as he looked back up and he wiggled the phone slightly.

“Howie, it wasn’t just me. You know Tony, if it was meant for only me, he would have stuck my name at the end of the text. It was meant for both of us.”

Howard blinked at the man who was staring at his phone with a small smile still on his face.

The last time Tony had wished him a goodnight…hell the last time he’d been around for Tony’s bedtime was Howard’s 40th birthday. Tony had stayed up incredibly late waiting until Howard and Maria had stumbled through the front doors and greeted them at the staircase, smiling and holding out his arms for a hug. He’d wished him a happy birthday and how had Howard responded?

He’d half-heartedly patted the boy on his head and scolded him for being up so far past his bedtime.

Tony’s face had crumpled immediately and he’d quietly apologized before striding off towards his room. The softly whispered ‘goodnight’ almost had Howard turning around, but all night he’d been brainstorming the design for an armor piercing bullet that could be loaded into the new tanks and instead had rushed down to his lab to sketch out his ideas.

He winced at the wave of shame that washed through him and looked up to see Steve staring.

“What?”

“Lost in a memory?”

Howard shrugged and started off down the hall, hearing Steve pat after him. Steve’s next question stopped him so fast the man slammed into his back and almost sent them both tumbling to the ground.

“If he hacked my phone, does he have access to my pictures?”

Howard whirled around and gripped Steve by the shoulders.

“I thought you deleted those!”

Steve burst into laughter and curled himself forward, his huge body dwarfing his own as he rested his head on Howard’s shoulder.

“Your…pfft…Howie, your fuh-face!”

“It’s not funny!” Howard gritted out between clenched teeth.

“Oh, ba-baby, yes it is! Psssh…of course I deleted them!”

He slumped under the boy’s weight and sighed, reaching up to run a hand over his face.

God that could have been so very bad. Howard knew he shouldn’t have done it in the first place, that should have been the sign he _needed_ to take a vacation, but a week ago Steve had been sending him lascivious texts during a particularly boring shareholder meeting. He’d ordered the man to stop and Steve had replied with a cheeky text of ‘what do I get if I behave like a good boy?’

Howard had snuck off to his private bathroom during a smoke break and shoved his pants down and shirt up, sending Steve a few pictures of his abs and heavy cock. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue, there were probably 50,000 other people out there who looked like he did naked, but in one picture he’d wrapped his hand around his cock and you could clearly see his MIT ring on his index finger, placement he was well known for. 

Steve hadn’t replied after that and Howard had come home to an extremely horny naked artist in his bed.

But regardless of what had happened, the pictures getting out wouldn’t ruin him, hell he’d been photographed naked before. If they got out, however, people would start asking where they’d come from and Steve had been very clear at the beginning of their relationship that he wanted to be out of the limelight as much as possible.

“But if I hadn’t, it would’ve taught Tony a lesson, right?”

He gently shoved his lover off and spun, making the trek back to their bedroom.

“Oh, yes, I’m sure it would have. It would have also been another couple years of therapy I’d have to pay for.”

“Aww, Howie, don’t be like that. You’re a catch and those pictures highlight your second best feature.”

A hand reached around while they walked and cupped him through his clothing, hot even through the layers. He pushed Steve’s hand away and shot him a look over his shoulder.

“I’m out of commission for the night, darling. And if that’s second best, what’s the first?”

Steve wrapped around him, effectively stopping him at the top of the grand staircase, and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, burying his face there.

“Your face, of course.”

He rolled his eyes at the sentiment and looked over to where Jarvis was coming up the stairs, a tall glass of something disturbingly orange balanced on the serving platter he held.

“He still…after all these years Jarvis?”

His old friend nodded, a small smile on his face.

“I’m told even when he’s with his mother, Mister Stark.”

Howard felt a small flush cross his cheeks and nodded sharply, grabbing a confused Steve and tugging him along.

“Good night, Jarvis.”

“Good night sirs.”

He could feel Steve at his back practically radiating curiosity and dreaded the conversation that would occur. Howard was saved by the jaunty jingle of his cell phone and he pushed his dressing gown to the side to wrestle it from his pajama pocket.

“Stark.”

“Howard! I got your email and I’m a bit confused.”

“Obadiah, what was confusing about it? The company’s settled and I think I’m long over-due for some time off.”

“No, no, I completely agree, completely. But see, I’ve been looking out my window and it’s not raining fire and there aren’t any flying barnyard animals, so what in the world brought this on?”

He growled into the phone as Obadiah laughed at his own joke, shoving open their bedroom door and ushering Steve inside.

“Funny, Obi, you know it’s good to have a backup talent in case something would happen to mysteriously cause you to be out of a job.”

Obadiah chuckled for a couple more moments before clearing his throat. Howard watched as Steve stripped out of his shirt in one smooth motion, leaving him clad in only silk pajama bottoms, one of the few luxuries Steve allowed himself. He licked his lips at the sight and wished, for not the first time in their relationship, that his body, one part in particular, hadn’t succumbed to the failings of old age.

“I’m just curious is all, Howard. It’s not like you to take long lunches, let alone a week off out of the blue. You’re not sick are you?”

“No, Obi, I’m not sick. Tony’s here for the summer-“

“He’s not staying with Maria?”

Howard tracked as Steve tossed his body across their mattress, letting out a truly indulgent purr as his body sank into the bed. He must have uttered a small sound because Steve flopped onto his back and shot him a grin, arching and stretching in a deliberately enticing manner.

“W-What? No, she’s off in Aspen. So Tony’s here and Steve suggested I take some time to spend with him.”

“The boy convinced workaholic Howard Stark to take some time off? Seriously, Howard, is he that good in bed?”

Howard snarled before he could help it, the noise wiping the grin from Steve’s face and replacing it with a frown. Obi backtracked quickly, a note of apology tingeing his words.

“Hey, hey, sorry, I know that’s a line. I’m just trying to say he’s good for you, Howard. I didn’t mean offense, you know that.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face before crossing to sit on the bed, waving off Steve’s look of concern.

“I know you didn’t, I’ve just heard more than my fair share of digs today at the relationship. Little sick of it all to be honest.”

He reached down and threaded his fingers through Steve’s hair when the boy curled up around him, knees bracketing one hip as he pressed a light kiss to Howard’s opposite one.

“I understand, I do, my apologies. I won’t keep you then; sounds like you’ve had a hell of a day. I’ll get everything set up so we can go over it tomorrow, and I’ll drop by in the morning to say hi to Tony, alright? Goodnight Howard.”

He bade Obadiah a goodnight in return and tossed the phone to the side, bringing his newly freed hand down to stroke over the soft skin at Steve’s hip. Steve hummed his pleasure against Howard’s skin and when he glanced down at the boy his eyes were half-lidded in lazy contentment, like a cat who’d found a sunbeam.

“Is he okay with it?”

“Whether he’s okay with it or not doesn’t really matter. But yes, he said he’ll get everything together for us to go over, and he’s dropping by in the morning to see Tony.”

He felt more than heard Steve groan into his clothes and twisted to face him more fully, quirking a brow.

“Problem?”

“Bucky’s coming bright and early tomorrow!”

“He’s back from deployment?”

“Yes! And we were going to spend the day figuring out what we were going to do this summer while he’s on leave.”

Howard shuddered at the thought of Obadiah meeting the tornado that was Bucky Barnes. The boy had absolutely no filter between his brain and his mouth and would argue a tree down if he thought it had slighted him or Steve. As far as best friends go, Howard couldn’t have built a better one for Steve, but the idea of one of the most pig-headed men he knew meeting the most hot-headed man on the planet was enough to make him wince.

The look on Steve’s face, as well as the teeth worrying at his lower lip, broke Howard from his thoughts.

“Steve, what are you planning?”

He glanced up and smiled, the picture of innocence, and if Howard hadn’t had his cock buried down the boy’s throat less than two hours ago he might be inclined to believe the window-dressing.

“Steven Grant-“

“What’s the story behind the drink?”

The non-sequitur made Howard blink and he shook his head. There were some things even Howard wasn’t willing to part with, not just yet.

Steve gave up fairly easily, something must have shown on Howard’s face that he wasn’t up for discussing it and he nuzzled into Howard’s hip once again, his next words a bit muffled but clear enough.

“Maybe Bucky could come with us on vacation?”

Howard Stark would like it to go on record he is normally a very well-spoken and composed man, who is very gentle with his lovers unless they ask for different. 

Therefore, planting a hand on Steve’s forehead and pushing it backwards so their eyes locked and squeaking out a ‘what?!’ was extremely out of character for him.

Though he didn’t regret it.

“It’s a good idea when you think about it, Howie! That way I have someone to hang out with when you and Tony spend time alone together-“

“ _Alone time_? Unlikely!”

“-and if we ever want some time together, I’m sure Bucky could keep Tony entertained for a little while-“

“Oh, yeah, send the army trained spitfire out with a boy who makes it his **job** to piss people off. That’ll work out well.”

“-and me and Buck have never actually been on a real vacation together, we never had enough money for it.”

That made Howard’s mouth, open and ready to fire off the next counter-argument, snap closed.

Shit, now he felt like a heel. Steve asked for so very little and here Howard was making a big deal out of something that was obviously important to him. If it made Steve happy he’d let Barnes move in to the damn mansion. A vacation wouldn’t kill him. 

“Alright, darling boy, you win. Barnes can come with us, wherever we decide to go.”

Steve brightened at that and leaned up to lay a smacking kiss on Howard’s lips.

“Thank you! You won’t regret it; I promise I’ll keep him in line!”

Howard chuckled at the youthful exuberance and shook his head. He’d seen how Steve and Barnes acted when they thought no one else was around. It was like a puppy promising he’d keep another in line; highly unlikely and Howard just knew something was going to get ruined or, knowing Barnes, peed on.

He shifted backwards and started when his hip bumped into a very familiar bulge, shooting Steve an incredulous look.

“Already? You came two hours ago!”

Steve bit his lip and blushed, shifting his hips minutely.

“I, ah…you look really hot in your pajamas?”

Howard shook his head and laughed a bit.

“I’m certainly not up for another round, kiddo.”

“Oh, no!” Steve shook his head so violently Howard was temporarily concerned for the possibility of a concussion. “No, it’s fine. Let’s just go to bed, it’ll go away on its own.”

Which, in all reality was probably something other couples often did, and was a fine plan.

If Howard wasn’t an insecure bastard married to a gorgeous man half his age.

Placing a hand on Steve’s hip, he shoved and rolled his lover until he was stretched out onto his stomach in the middle of the bed, whining softly and rocking into the mattress at the sudden pressure. Situating himself on his knees between the boy’s spread legs he placed a hand on Steve’s lower back to halt the movement and grinned when the boy twisted around to look at him.

There was one sure-fire way to make Steve cum so hard it put him out of commission for a while, the amazing refractory period of youth notwithstanding.

“Want me to eat you out, baby girl? Get you soaking wet with my tongue?”

Steve immediately moaned and bucked his hips into the bed, head falling back down for a moment as he fought for composure.

Howard grinned smugly and stripped his dressing gown from his shoulders with quick movements, tossing it off the side of the bed carelessly. He enjoyed this just as much as Steve did, though it had taken a while to convince Steve to allow him to do it. Even to this day he’d only let Howard do it if he’d showered recently, and if it hadn’t been too long since his last waxing appointment.

Which, luckily for Howard, had been yesterday.

It wasn’t always coupled with a bit of genderplay, but he needed to knock Steve out well, and this should put him down for at least enough time to get in a solid nights rest.

“Please, yes, please.”

“Please what, darling?”

Oh, Howard was well aware he was a bastard. He just couldn’t find it in him to care as he yanked Steve’s pants and underwear down to his knees, careful to ease them over his young lover’s cock first.

“Please, do…that to me.”

“What is ‘that’? Come on sweetheart, I know you’ve got a filthy mouth. Let me hear you beg for me to eat your cunt.”

He punctuated his words with a sharp smack to one of Steve’s perfect cheeks, leaning down to kiss the spot gently afterwards. Steve bucked and whined, his head whipping around to watch Howard, a deep cherry flush staining his cheeks. It still amazed Howard to this day how the very same boy who would greet Howard at their bedroom door after a long day at work and mischievously inform him he was already stretched and ready got so quiet and embarrassed during this. 

The first time he’d ever slipped up and called Steve a girl in bed he’d thought for sure the younger boy was going to knock him out. But Steve had clenched down on Howard’s dick so hard he’d almost blacked out and came instantly.

They’d had a long discussion afterwards about how Steve had always gotten taunted for being girly when he was little, always got handled with kid gloves, before the medical testing, and once he was big everyone treated him roughly. And sometimes, if it was okay with Howard, he’d just like to be treated like something delicate again. Maybe even like a girl again?

And that was definitely okay with Howard.

“Please eat me out, please, please. Lick me until I’m soaking wet. Shove your fingers into my hungry little pussy until I’m cumming.”

Howard groaned into Steve’s flesh at the whispered pleas and, placing firm hands on either cheek to spread them, complied.

The first touch of his tongue to Steve’s tight hole, still so goddamn tight no matter how many plugs Howard stretched him with, had Steve bucking so violently he had to pull back or risk a bloody nose.

He waited patiently until Steve settled again, rubbing slow circles with his thumbs in an attempt to help the boy relax.

“You **are** hungry for it, aren’t you babydoll? Ah, but that’s my fault. It’s been too long since I’ve done this, and my little girl can’t go that long without a tongue in her pussy, can she? Wouldn’t want you going elsewhere looking for it, now would we?”

He leaned back down and swirled his tongue over the hole again, prepared this time so when Steve bucked he tightened his grip and shoved down, keeping the boy pinned to the bed. Steve sobbed and Howard heard the whisper soft sound of the comforter moving against the sheets as Steve bunched it in his hands.

“No…nowhere else, no one else. Can’t…nobody could do it like you.”

A flush of pride shot through Howard at the whimpered words and he rewarded Steve with a harder thrust of his tongue, slipping just the tip inside. But there was still the niggling feeling of doubt running through him, damn his insecurities, and the next words tumbled out of his mouth before he could help it.

“You sure? Sure you wouldn’t want someone younger, someone better? Someone who could keep this hungry pussy full all the time, not just once a day?”

He brought his head up slightly and was rewarded with the sight of Steve’s face turned over his shoulder, glaring at Howard through lust-darkened eyes. Howard dropped his head back down, unable to stand the question and irritation in that gaze, fucking his tongue harder, easing Steve open so he could lick deeper and deeper inside.

“I’d rather have your cock once a day than anyone else’s all day long. Nobody fucks me like you do, Howie, nobody gets me wet like you. You’re perfect no matter how you’re splitting me open, I’m only this slutty for you. Only spread my legs for you. Your tongue’s the only one that’s ever been, and is ever gonna be, inside my cunt. You own my little pussy. Please, please fuck it? Can you, Howie, can you fuck your little pussy?”

**Jesus. Christ.**

Howard moaned and yanked back, sliding his hands under Steve’s hip bones and tugging sharply, bringing the boy to his knees. He leaned over for a moment, fumbling in the bedside table for the flavored lube they kept there, distracted by the sight of Steve reaching down to lazily wrap a hand around his cock.

Finally closing his fingers around the damn tube he leaned back and brought a hand down sharply on the curve of Steve’s ass, grinning at the yelp.

“Hands off, babydoll. You’re going to cum from my fingers and tongue and nothing else, hear me?”

Steve groaned his assent and Howard slicked up his fingers, leaning down to run his tongue teasingly around the rim, enjoying the way it clenched and relaxed at the light touch. 

He dropped the bottle onto the bed, uncaring of if it spilled or not and raised a hand up to slide two deep into Steve in between strokes of his tongue. Steve jumped and his thighs trembled at the sudden intrusion and Howard smirked against his flesh.

Two at once was pushing it for most, but during this Steve was ridiculously immune to pain, everything that would hurt only serving to jack the pleasure higher. He twisted his fingers, stretching Steve out and licking in between them, tongue dipping inside every so often to keep Steve on his toes. Howard was very careful to avoid Steve’s prostate, which was shockingly sensitive. A couple of times Steve had cum just from the press of Howard’s cock firmly onto it, begging Howard to fuck him through the shivers and aftershocks.

That would be how they’d discovered his fantastic refractory period.

Steve was so close now, writhing and thrusting back onto Howard’s fingers, begging him to fuck him harder with words and movements. Howard had moved on from teasing licks and was complying, using his fingers to hold his lover open as he slid his tongue in and out, fucking him as surely as he would with his cock. He rolled his eyes upwards and was rewarded with the delicious sight of Steve’s back flexing and rolling with the movements of his hips, sweat gathering in the hollow at the base of his spine.

Pulling back, he thrust his fingers in and out roughly, enjoying the way Steve ground back on them, the way his body opened and accepted them so beautifully but wrapped iron tight and hot around the lengths inside.

“Does my babydoll want to cum? Does she want to cum just from my fingers and tongue like a naughty little girl?”

“Yes!” Steve sobbed out, his voice high and tight as he desperately moved his hips in time with Howard’s thrusts. “Yes, please, please, please make me cum. I wanna cum for you, wanna be a good girl. I wanna show you how much I love your tongue in my cunt, please let me cum! Please let me be your good girl Big Daddy.”

Dangerous, deadly little addiction.

Howard leaned down and, in a feat of balance that impressed even him, managed to bring his other hand up to Steve’s opposite cheek, using it and the one currently buried inside him to stretch him out, pull his skin tight. He leaned down and thrust his tongue in alongside his fingers just as they caught the top of Steve’s prostate, circling gently in a teasing motion. Steve howled and screamed and over the rush of blood in his ears Howard could hear a litany of “be your good little girl” and “wanna cum, gonna cum, please Big Daddy” and “fuck, yes, please fuck my pussy”. He shifted his grip and pressed the two fingers down firmly just as he pulled back slightly to lick just inside the rim, where Steve was most sensitive.

Steve came with a hoarse scream of Howard’s name, rolling and grinding well enough to beat any pornstar out there. Howard fucked him through it, keeping his fingers pressed to the small gland and his tongue stretching the rim, until Steve reached back with a shaking hand and tapped at Howard’s forearm. He carefully withdrew and watched with a smug smile as Steve collapsed onto his side, away from the wet spot of his cooling cum, chest heaving with exertion.

“Feel better, darling?”

Steve shot him a weak glare in response to his ribbing and Howard laughed as he moved from the bed, crossing the room to the bathroom. That was really the only drawback of rimming Steve until he turned into a big gooey mess of artist; Howard was a stickler for cleanliness and had to immediately leave the bed to clean off before he kissed Steve.

He had just taken a swig of the mouthwash, swishing it from cheek to cheek when rustling from the other room made him stick his head into the doorway. Steve had gotten up and was in the process of stuffing the soiled comforter down the laundry chute, thighs trembling so hard he could see it through the pants Steve had pulled back up around his waist. He leaned back to spit the mouthful into the sink and called out into the room.

“Baby, I’ll get that, just go lay down!”

Steve’s response was drowned out by the rush of water as Howard pumped a small amount of soap into his hands and, lathering them up, washed his moustache out. He cupped his hands under the fall and rinsed, grimacing at the feeling of cold slipping down his throat and wetting the collar of his pajamas. He shut the water off and reached for the hand towel hanging nearby, patting his throat and hands dry before hanging it back up. 

Clean-up complete he spun and headed out of the bathroom, freezing in the doorway as he caught sight of one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.

Steve was sprawled back on the bed, obviously having listened as there wasn’t a new blanket spread over him, arms curled under the pillow his head rested on, one leg extended and the other brought up just slightly. All in all, an adorable sight for sure, but what made it beautiful was that Steve had stripped off his clothes sometime while Howard was gone and lay completely naked, body stripped in shadows from the lamp on Howard’s side table. A shiny slickness marked the visible curve of Steve’s ass and while Howard knew the boy was going to bitch and moan in the morning about feeling wet and weird, he couldn’t bring himself to clean it off of him.

Not only would it disturb his peaceful slumber, Howard rather liked the idea of Steve going to bed like he was an actual girl who’d gotten her pussy tongue-fucked, slickness from her lovers tongue marking her body. 

He crossed the room and opened a side closet to tug out a new blanket, hefting it up for a few steps before tossing it onto the bed, letting it unfurl in the air. Steve barely flinched at the new pressure and Howard smiled as he stretched and smoothed the material before climbing into bed next to the boy. He had just clicked off the light and settled in when Steve’s body attached itself to his side; a heavy thigh settling over one of his, a leg twining between, an arm tossed over his stomach and Steve’s head resting on his shoulder. 

Howard grinned into the darkness as he slipped one hand down to rest it high on Steve’s leg, one the flat of his thigh just before the curve of his ass, and slid the other one up Steve’s arm until his fingers could curl lightly around a heavily muscled forearm. He yawned at the sudden lethargy that over-took him and let himself sink into the mattress.

Between one deep breath and the next, both lovers drifted off into a peaceful sleep, content, warm, and most of all, safe in each other’s presence.


	5. Bucky Barnes Does Not Screw 12 Year Olds, and Obadiah is a Creepy Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky Barnes is a good friend, Tony Stark is an unrepentant slut, and Obadiah Stane makes Steve's spidey-senses go haywire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A subplot! Original characters! This is becoming a real story! I knew Steve needed an ally other than Jarvis in the household and this story will eventually be Bucky/Tony too, but at the moment Tony's too young and Bucky's too freaked out by this child who keeps making lewd comments to have it develop into anything worthwhile.

Steve shifted and groaned, burying his head into the pillows and desperately trying to avoid the one beam of light that seemed insistent on hitting him directly in the face every morning. He heard Howard’s low chuckle off somewhere to his left and growled at the man, face still smashed into fabric that smelled like his lover.

“Find a way to shut off the sun.”

A warm palm landed on his lower back and Steve felt the scratch of Howard’s mustache as the man placed a kiss onto his shoulder blade.

“I would and all, darling, anything for you, but studies have proven we do actually need the sun to survive.”

He huffed into the pillow and went to flip over, only succeeding in getting his body halfway there before the slick squish of lube between his cheeks made him grimace and freeze.

“Darnit, I knew I should have cleaned up before I went to bed. Yuck.”

“I was going to do it for you but you looked so peaceful.”

“Yeah, well, now I know how girls must feel when they wake up and find out they got their period.”

Howard laughed in a sharp bark and his voice had an odd echo to it as he spoke. Steve figured he must have moved into the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day. 

“Yeah, go ahead and tell that to any woman. See how fast you get punched in the face.”

Steve grumbled and climbed out of the bed, quickly making his way into the bathroom and shoving around Howard who stood in front of the mirror, midway through the process of slicking his hair back. He went about his normal bathroom routine, grabbing a pack of moist towelettes from under the cabinet to quickly clean himself off. He hit the handle on the toilet and turned to playfully bump Howard out of the way with his hip.

“Watch it, kiddo.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Steve fluttered his eyelashes at the older man. “Are you gonna spank me?”

Howard blinked at him while they washed their hands in the sink, shoulders rubbing as they playfully fought for space under the rush of water.

“Someone woke up feeling frisky.”

Steve laughed and leaned over to press a kiss to his lover’s cheek, snatching away the towel Howard held in his hands as he did.

“I woke up in our bed, still wet from your tongue; of course I’m feeling frisky.”

Howard took the towel back and tossed it over one shoulder, fitting his palms against Steve’s hips and dragging him in for a kiss. Steve threw himself into it, tongue tangling with his lover’s, but then just as quickly backed off, scooting around Howard on his way out of the room.

“Now, now, Howie. We have company coming, can’t just canoodle in the bathroom all day.”

A disgruntled “I’ll canoodle you” was all the warning Steve got before the hand towel snapped against the meat of his ass. He yelped and turned to see Howard staring at him innocently, towel nonchalantly thrown back over his shoulder.

Steve stuck his tongue out and whipped around, crossing to the massive dresser and scrounging for his running wear. He had just finished pulling on a pair of sweatpants, dark boxer briefs, and one of Howard’s old MIT shirts when the man in question came out of the bathroom, adjusting his shirt cuffs. He looked different in the sunlight that spilled into the room and Steve was struck stupid for a moment, as he usually was when he got to see Howard before he left for work.

The white shirt stretched over the man’s shoulders, hugging his figure down to where it tucked into black pants, that same damned belt from last night wrapping around his lovers waist. He distantly heard himself make some half-aborted moan and Howard’s head came up from where he was threading his tie through the collar of his shirt. Red today, with inlaid silver stripes in varying thicknesses. The man smiled at him softly and Steve couldn’t help but grin back.

Bucky had asked him once, when he’d found out about Steve and Howard’s relationship, what Steve could possibly see in a cold, callous bastard like that. Steve had replied he saw just the opposite, and it rang true to this day. In business maybe Howard was a complete ice man, but at home and with Steve he was infinitely patient and calm, barring situations in which they both wanted to opposite.

The Howard Stark Steve had quickly fallen head over heels for was not the asshole weapons magnate everyone else saw him as, nor was he the neglectful and cruel father Tony saw him as. The Howard Stark he knew brought him new sketchpads for no good reason, he kept pictures of the son he dearly loved and yet couldn’t bond with tucked away in places only he would see, and he was the man who bickered back and forth with his secretary like they were the ones who were married, but never forgot to send her or her wife flowers on their birthdays.

“Be back before Barnes gets here or I’m not going to be held responsible for damages done to his face.”

Broken from his musings by Howard’s command he laughed and nodded, crossing to drop a kiss on his lover’s cheek before slipping into his socks and running shoes and taking off through the house.

He dodged around maids and housekeepers as he headed towards the grand staircase, shouting out a cheerful “Good morning!” to Jarvis as he sped out the front door the man always had open for him.

Steve felt his whole face break into a smile as he hit the fresh air and sunshine that heralded a perfect summer day. He hummed quietly to himself as he jogged the path he followed every morning, save for Sundays when he laid in bed until Howard called him on his lunch break and woke him, trekking the 3 miles that made up the square footage of the property. 

There was a lot to be done today; he had to figure out how to charter the StarkJet, convince Bucky to spend a chunk of his leave with Howard and Tony, attempt to not look like an idiot in front of Tony as he tried to plan out the vacation, and he wanted to start work on the plan he was going to present to Howard as to “Why This House Needs a Puppy and Why I Should Get One For Christmas.” 

Curving back around, he upped his pace when he saw Bucky kill the engine in the massive stone circle driveway and step from the car Howard had bought him, sunglasses firmly in place. 

“Bucky! Bucky!”

His calls brought Bucky’s head around and the other man grinned, waving a hand. Steve sped the rest of the way to him, catching his old friend in his arms and sinking into the sense of security and peace that always pervaded him when he was around Bucky.

When he’d gotten news Bucky had gone M.I.A for a while there, he’d spent many nights curled on Howard’s lap scared out of his mind every phone call or knock on the door was going to be the “we’re sorry for your loss” speech he’d been terrified of since Bucky joined the army when they were 18.

But instead he’d gotten another call about a month later that said Bucky had been found, half out of his mind from dehydration and starvation, but alive and was well on the way to recovery.

Bucky clapped him on the back as they separated and Steve grinned, gesturing to his sunglasses as they turned to stride into the house.

“Why do you wear those, Buck? You can’t stand something so big on your face, you’ve said it before.”

“Because they’re Stark’s favorite glasses and it irritates the hell outta him when I do this.”

Bucky shoved the glasses off his nose and up into his hair, the floppy strands falling over the lenses and giving Bucky a rakish look. Steve had to laugh at the smug grin on his best friend’s face.

Howard had indeed went on a couple different rants about how aviators were _real_ sunglasses and weren’t meant to be used as hairbands, nor were they meant to be any color other than black. So, naturally, Bucky took pleasure in finding oddly colored aviators and parading around Howard in them, lavishing praise on how well _this color_ blocked out the light and _this color_ brought out his eyes and ‘Steve, don’t you think this color would look _fantastic_ on Howard? Here, Stark, put these on your face!’

Yes, before you ask, Steve was completely and utterly aware his best friend was an asshole.

Sure enough, the aviator’s tucked into Bucky’s brown locks were a dark forest green, matching the plain green tee Bucky had thrown on along with his black leather jacket and favorite broken in, ripped-to-hell-and-back jeans. He shot Bucky a grin as they crossed into the cool darkness of the house, thanking Jarvis as he closed the door behind them.

“Soooooo, what are your plans for leave?”

“No.” Bucky held out a hand, following Steve to the kitchen. “No discussing whatever harebrained scheme you’ve cooked up until I get me some coffee. Marta, you lovely, lovely woman you, please tell me you’ve got some magic juice for your favorite man.”

The main cook for the house spun from her place at the stove and placed one hand on her hip, the other brandishing a spatula at Bucky’s advancing form.

“I don’t see you for months and that’s how you greet me? Madre de Dios, children these days! My niños at least have good manners.”

Steve laughed at Bucky’s hangdog expression as he tried to wrap his arms around the plump Hispanic woman who was batting at him with her free hand. Marta was, next to Jarvis, his favorite member of the household. She didn’t take any crap from anyone, and the first time he’d met her she was giving Howard hell for only taking a few bites of breakfast before trying to rush off to work. She was another one of Steve’s only friends in the house and there had been more than a few nights she comforted him with hot chocolate and hugs when the pain of a barb from one of the people at a party Howard had drug him to drove him from the bed in tears.

“Marta, I give you full authority to beat him to death for his insolence. I’ll double your pay if you do it with the frying pan.”

Steve glanced up from his seat at the massive kitchen island as Howard strode in, ignoring Bucky’s offended huff as he pulled the man into a heady kiss.

A sharp whack landed on the back of his head and Steve yanked back, turning to frown at Marta who was making her way back to the stove.

“That hurt, Marta!”

“The kitchen is a place for food and wholesome fun, not necking and groping. I’m not sorry.”

“You tell ‘em, Marty.”

Steve turned his gaze towards where Bucky lounged back against the counter in an elegant sprawl, sticking out his tongue and receiving a sarcastic salute with the cup of coffee Bucky held in one hand.

Howard strode over and took down two cups, pouring them full of the delicious smelling dark brew before beginning to make them to his and Steve’s preferences.

That had been another thing that had shocked Steve when he’d trudged down to the kitchen the first morning he’d stayed over. Howard had Marta to cook, various people running around his home doing odd jobs, and Jarvis doing everything else Howard didn’t trust others to do, but he still poured his own coffee and preferred to eat at the kitchen island instead of in the breakfast nook or dining room.

“Good mor- Well, hello, handsome.”

Steve craned his neck away from the cup of coffee Howard had put in front of him and looked towards the doorway where a sleep-rumpled Tony stood in pajama pants and a muscle tee, eyes roving over Bucky like a lion sizing up its prey. Bucky arched a brow over the rim of his cup and pulled it away, looking to Steve for an explanation.

“Uhm, Bucky, this is Tony, Howard’s son. Tony, this is Bucky Barnes, my best friend.”

Tony slid smoothly across the room until he was leaning on the counter next to Bucky, arm braced and body opened to the older man. Steve instinctively knew the low groan from behind him meant Howard had dropped his head into his hand in exasperation and shot Bucky a warning glare that he hoped conveyed, “I need this kid to like me, Buck. Don’t be you.”

Bucky scoffed and took another sip before he spoke, eyeing Tony sideways like an old woman who’d sat down next to a punk rocker.

“Nice to meet’cha, kid.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s _very_ nice. What brings you to my humble abode so early on this fine morning?”

“It’s **my** humble abode.” Steve heard Howard grumble from behind him, and he lightly elbowed the man in response.

“Oh, y’know, normal stuff. Seeing Steve, bothering Marty, trying to get my friend away from the ogre that is Howard Stark.”

“Ah, agree completely. The man’s an absolute troll. We should discuss this more. Privately. Over coffee perhaps?”

Bucky raised up the cup in his hands with a pointed look.

“Already got coffee, kid.”

“Dinner then. I know a great restaurant down on 52nd street that has _the_ most amazing Dover Sole.”

Apparently single-minded pursuit of a romantic interest was as dominant as dark hair and brown eyes in the Stark genes.

“I don’t know what that is, for one, and for two, I don’t screw twelve year olds, bucko.”

Tony straightened and laughed, a rich sound that, if Steve hadn’t heard Howard use it when schmoozing with fellow billionaires, he’d think it was completely real.

“Sixteen, actually, and seventeen in a month. Legal age of consent, so not really an issue. And it’s a fish, a delicious one, which you’ll see at dinner.”

Steve could see the twitch in Bucky’s right eye at Tony’s arrogant behavior and hid his head under stacked arms, just knowing that whatever Bucky said next was going to end any hopes Steve had of Tony liking him.

“No go, kid. But, tell you what, you call me when you start growing hair in your no-no place and maybe we’ll figure something out, yeah? Now, run along and go play in your sandbox while the grown-ups talk.”

The sputtering and coughing behind him had Steve spinning from the awful sight that was Tony’s godsmacked expression and turning into the more horrific sight of Howard red-faced and choking on his coffee. He leapt up but before he could get there, Marta materialized and whacked Howard one good time between the shoulder blades. Steve relaxed at Howard’s sharp, long inhale and slumped back down into his seat as Marta whipped around to face Tony and Bucky.

“That’s enough, both of you. James, stop being mean to him, that boy’s already graduated college. And Tony, stop being a puto. Now, who would like an omelet?”

Four hands went up as she smiled serenely, like she hadn’t just called Tony a slut in front of her employer, and turned back to the stove, busying herself with dishing food onto plates.

Tony plopped down at the table opposite Steve and glared at his father who was easing into his seat, absently squeezing Steve’s knee when he settled.

“You’re just gonna let her call me that?”

Howard gave Tony an amused look as he reached for the paper Jarvis had laid out and snapped it open.

“She changed your diapers, and she knows where I sleep. I’m going to let her call you whatever she wants. Besides, it’s not like it’s untrue.”

Tony huffed and crossed his arms, a small glint of pleasure sneaking into his gaze when Marta dropped a kiss to the crown of his head as she strode by, neatly depositing plates in front of everyone.

Steve grinned and immediately dug in, glad for the excuse to ignore the awkward situation that was Tony still trying to flirt with Bucky and Bucky steadily growing more and more annoyed.

Howard finally had enough and brought his coffee cup down onto the table with a sharp clack.

“Tony. Enough. He’s ten years older than you, let it go.”

Tony glared at his dad, taking a long pull from his own cup of coffee Marta had dropped in front of him.

“Oh yeah, because age is _such_ a big deal. Hey, Steve, how many years _is_ it between you and the old man?”

“SO!” The sharp clap of Steve’s hands brought Bucky’s head around from where he’d been glaring a hole into the side of Tony’s head.

“Bucky, I was wondering if you want to come with us on vacation for a week. We’re leaving tomorrow and I thought it might be nice for us to have a real vacation for once.”

Bucky looked back at him, twirling his fork absently in his fingers.

“What’cha got planned?”

“Well, Tony said something about wanting to go on the yacht which is in...Maui, right Tony?”

“Yeah, at our beach house.”

“And I figured there’s probably plenty else to do there too!”

Bucky frowned and took another drink from his coffee, seemingly mulling it over in his head.

“I dunno Steve. As nice as a week in Hawaii sounds, a week stuck with Stark’s is the equivalent of voluntary torture. Besides, I do know when I’m not wanted.”

“Oh, you are most certainly wanted.”

Steve resisted the urge to facepalm at Tony’s sultry pun and looked back to his friend.

“No, it’s fine, Buck. It’ll be fun. Besides, Howard said he wanted you there, didn’t you Howard?”

“Oh, yes. I will openly weep if you do not accompany us.”

Both Steve and Tony shot glares in the direction of the older man’s dry tone while Howard indifferently turned another page in the paper.

“The day Howard Stark openly weeps is the day I streak through Stark Industries lobby.”

“Obi!”

Tony leapt up from the table and hurried to the entrance of the kitchen, eagerly throwing himself into the arms of the man who stood there, dressed down in shirtsleeves and dress pants. Steve tightened his grip on the fork at the way Obi gripped onto Tony’s hips instead of his arms or shoulders once the boy stepped out of his embrace. He saw Bucky’s confused look out of the corner of his eye and shook his head minutely as Howard climbed from his seat, striding over to the pair.

“Obi, thanks for coming. Did you want to head in today or-“

“Hell, Howard, let me get coffee first! Work, work, and more work, it must get annoying, eh Steve?”

Steve grinned tightly as Obadiah crossed the room to clap a hand on his shoulder, fighting the urge to shrug it off.

“He’s dedicated. It’s nice to see in this day and age.”

“He’s a workaholic is more like.” Tony piped up from where he’d trailed after the man, pausing next to Bucky. Obadiah grinned and turned to muss Tony’s hair while Howard grumbled from the kitchen doorway. The more and more he touched Tony the tighter the coil of dread spun in Steve’s stomach. He could never place it, but there was something in Obadiah’s eyes, something cold that made Steve want to bury his face in Howard’s stomach and cling like a child.

And whatever it was seemed so much more sinister when he looked at Tony.

Bucky gave him an odd look and he inclined his head slightly towards Obadiah in response. Understanding flooded his friends face and he reached out with one hand, hooking a finger in the hem of Tony’s shirt and tugging. When Tony spun to face him, Bucky pasted on his sweetest smile and practically fluttered his eyelashes at the boy.

“Hey, Tone, wanna give me a tour while these old geezers talk shop? Never actually seen the whole house before.”

Tony’s face lit up like someone had told him he was spending his birthday at the Playboy manor and he gallantly held out a hand to Buck.

“But of course, good sir. I’ll give you the grand tour of Casa de Stark, let you see the opulence you could live in one day.”

Bucky shot Steve a look that clearly said Steve was going to be spending quite a bit of money on Bucky when they went on vacation and he mouthed a thank you as Tony tugged the man up out of his seat and into the hall, chattering as he went.

Obadiah frowned after them before crossing to accept the cup of coffee Marta had ready for him.

“Friend of yours, Steve?”

“Best friend, actually.”

Howard shot Steve a look at his short reply and he internally sighed before stretching his mouth into a grin and looking over to where Obadiah had slid into Tony’s empty seat.

“He just got back from deployment. We were actually just in the middle of discussing vacation plans before Tony stole him, so I’m going to go chase after them, if you don’t mind.”

He drained the last of his coffee and stood, leaning over to accept Howard’s brief kiss and striding away. He paused for a moment only to give Marta a gentle kiss on the cheek before fleeing the room completely. Steve swore he could almost feel Obadiah’s eyes on his back as he hurried away and ducked into the nearest hall, slumping against the wall and pushing a hand over his forehead to wipe away the sweat.

Steve Rogers had never been scared of anyone in his life, gladly taking on guys three times his size when he was younger, but there was something about Obadiah Stane that scared the crap out of him. He would catch glimpses of the man’s eyes when he thought no one was looking at him, and Steve didn’t like the way they lingered over Howard at times. He’d thought that was bad enough, but the darkness pervading them when Obadiah had looked at Tony was enough to threaten to bring Steve’s omelet and coffee up for a second round.

“Sir? Are you alright?”

Steve looked up to see Jarvis paused in front of him, looking at him with concern. He threw a glance over his shoulder and stepped closer to the man, lowering his voice. Before, when Obadiah looked at Howard, Steve hadn’t been concerned. He’d seen the man spar with his personal trainers before and Howard was still spry and strong for his age. But Tony was young and thin and if something happened, God he hoped nothing ever happened, would Tony be able to stop it?

“Jarvis, can I talk to you? Privately?”

The man straightened, something in Steve’s tone letting him know this was important, and ushered him down the hall and into the nearby room Howard smoked his cigars in, acquiescing to Steve’s request to keep it in one room so the smell didn’t pervade the house. Steve relaxed the moment the dark smell that lingered in the room wrapped around his senses. Jarvis had chosen well, he must’ve seen how worked up Steve was getting. It wasn’t that Steve didn’t like cigars, on the contrary he’d curled up at Howard’s feet while the man smoked more than once, enjoying the shivers of heat that ran through him every time he looked into the antique mirror on the wall across from the seat. Between the squat glass that usually sat on the small side table, the cigar in Howard’s one hand and his other tangled in Steve’s hair while he nuzzled into the spread of Howard’s thighs, they made the most delicious picture of an old mob boss and his paid boy.

Steve threw himself into Howard’s chair and watched as Jarvis quietly closed the door behind them, crossing the room to seat himself on the loveseat across from Steve.

“Is everything alright?”

“I just-Jarvis, what do you know about Obadiah?”

“Mister Stane?” Jarvis’ brows lifted for a moment before furrowing in thought.

“He and Mister Stark met when they were young boys; they attended the same boarding school. They grew close and Mister Stane has helped Howard build up Stark Industries into what it is today. He’s been a large part of young Anthony’s life as well; in fact, he’s Anthony’s godfather. Why do you ask?”

“He just,” Steve bit his lip before pushing on. Jarvis had given him no reason to distrust him.

“The way he looks at Howard sometimes.” And Tony, he mentally added, though that was better kept to himself for the moment.

“Ah. There is reason behind that that is not mine to tell, sir. Perhaps you might want to ask Mister Stark about that.”

Steve felt a cold flush run through his body at the words and he froze in place, processing what the older man had just said.

“Did they…Jarvis, were Howard and Obadiah lovers?”

“Not to my knowledge, sir, but as I’ve said there is history there best told by Mister Stark.”

Steve nodded numbly and filed it away to question Howard about later. He shook his head to clear out the dark wave of insecurities that whispered, ‘yes, they were’, ‘how many _late nights at the office_ have they spent together while you waited at home’, and ‘why would Howard be satisfied with a child when he could have his intellectual and societal equal?’

Steve immediately hated himself for the thoughts he couldn’t stop. Howard had done everything humanly possible to prove that he was head over heels in love with and devoted to Steve and he repaid the kindness and generosity by thinking he was cheating on him with his business partner? He shoved them all into the black box they’d started to spill out of and re-focused on Jarvis, who was watching him with a touch of concern in his eyes.

“Has he ever, I dunno, made you feel…weird?”

“Weird, sir?”

“Like, hell, um, just,” Steve was at a loss for how to describe it, but luckily Jarvis must have picked up his meaning in his waving hands and stunted words.

“Rather like a wounded mouse that can hear the cat but can’t see it?”

“Yes!”

Jarvis frowned and smoothed out an imaginary crease on his pants before answering, his words obviously carefully chosen.

“I am not one to cast dispersions on others, sir, but yes. Mister Stane has always made me a bit uncomfortable personally. I do not care for the way he acts around Mister Stark or young Anthony at times, but it is not my place to judge or speak up about it.”

Steve sighed at the knowledge he wasn’t alone in his feeling and nodded. He leaned forward, about the question the man more when the door to the room swung open to reveal Howard and Obadiah in the doorway.

“Steve, there you are! I’ve been looking for you.” Howard paused, eyes touching on Jarvis who was smoothly climbing to his feet.

“Is everything alright?”

“Quite, sir. Mister Steve was merely asking for some advice on things I thought young Anthony would enjoy doing on the vacation.”

Howard nodded, accepting the lie at face value and Steve sent up a small prayer for Jarvis’ apparently awesome poker face. The man nodded to him once before excusing himself and scooting from the room. Steve rose from the chair and met Howard halfway across the room, smiling easily at him and carefully avoiding catching Obadiah’s gaze.

“What’s going on?”

“Obi and I are going to head into work for a while to get everything settled before we leave. Just wanted to let you know in case you came looking for me.”

Steve nodded and happily leaned down when Howard’s hands cupped his face and pulled him in for a kiss. He twisted his head slightly and deepened it, sliding his tongue over Howard’s in a defiant display of ownership, well aware of Stane’s gaze as he did so. Howard pulled away with a chuckle and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“Still frisky, huh?”

“Oh yeah, hurry home tonight and I’ll show you just how much.”

Howard shivered slightly as he pulled back and Steve internally whooped at the darkening of his lover’s eyes. Yes, the insecurities and questions were still there, and he’d discuss it all with Howard later tonight.

 _After_ he rode the man until he screamed. 

“I actually want to talk to you about commissioning a painting, Steve. Though I’ll save that talk for tonight.”

His head whipped up at Obadiah’s words to meet the man’s stare.

“W-what?”

“Hmmm? Oh, yeah, Obi’s going to come back for dinner since he didn’t get to spend much time with Tony this morning. I need to let Marta know before we leave, Obi, don’t let me forget. The last time I invited someone without telling her I got salt in my morning coffee. Bitter woman… Speaking of bitter people, please make sure neither of those two idiots running around ruin our house while I’m gone, alright darling?”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at Howard’s scattered thoughts and nodded his assent, mumbling vaguely about discussing the painting with Obadiah later. He dropped one more kiss onto his lover’s cheek before bidding them both a goodbye, gnashing his teeth at the companionable arm Obadiah threw over Howard’s shoulders as they strode away.  
The tendrils were starting to escape from that little black box again and Steve firmly slammed the lid shut as he strode off to go save Bucky from Tony’s clutches.

He wasn’t a simpering heroine in an old school romance who pined and lamented her life while her sweetheart was stolen by another. No, Steve Rogers was a scrappy little shit from Brooklyn who’d grown up learning how to fight for what he wanted.

And what he wanted tonight was to make Howard Stark **beg**.


	6. Insecure Steve and A New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obadiah is the King of Creepers, Howard is actually pretty understanding, Steve has devious plans and makes a new friend after a break-down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally **not** going to include Clint/Coulson who happen to be my favorite OTP, but they snuck in anyways. The smut will happen next chapter! And it may be a few days before said chapter, my muse is trying to straddle two stories at once and only being semi-successful. :/

By the time Howard texted him that he and Obadiah were on their way back for dinner, it felt like they’d only been gone moments. In the time they were away Steve had wrangled Tony and Bucky into sitting down and actually discussing what they wanted to do on vacation (ignoring Tony’s half-hearted protests that Maria hadn’t gotten back with him yet and the vacation wasn’t a sure thing), figured out how to charter the StarkJet, and found time to slip off to his room to ready Howard’s surprise for the night.

After seeing Bucky off with the promise the man would be back bright and early tomorrow so they could fly out, Steve parted ways with Tony, who mumbled something about calling a friend, and made his way back to the sunroom.

He laid down on a lounge placed in the fading sunlight of the day, fighting back a shiver as the plug inside him shifted and his muscles stretched in response. God, he couldn’t wait to get Howard alone. It was amazingly hot to see the billionaire’s pupils blow wide when he finally figured out Steve was plugged and ready for him, and it always pushed him that much closer to the edge.

One day, Steve was going to find out exactly what it took to make Howard Stark snap and he was going to enjoy that day immensely.

He bit his lip and guiltily ran his hands from his chest down to his thighs, arching up into them as he did. The touch only served to wind the coil of desire in his stomach tighter and he was momentarily happy he’d chosen to slip on a cock ring while he was preparing himself, otherwise he’d be walking around with a perpetual hard-on, and that tended to scare most people.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t still sensitive to touch, and Steve hissed as he cupped himself through the jeans he’d changed into after breakfast. They were Howard’s favorite, paint stained, ripped in both knees, and so often worn the material clung to his ass in a way even Steve had to admit was delicious. Steve planted his bare feet on the lounge and brought his hips up, moaning low at how the clench of his muscles felt around the plug.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?”

It was, Steve decided, very hard to simultaneously jump up off a lounge chair, back away, and still look like you hadn’t been caught doing something wrong.

Obadiah leered at him from where he leaned in the doorway, running his eyes over Steve’s body in a way that sent chills down the younger man’s spine, and he barely resisted the urge to shudder.

“Please, by all means, don’t stop on my account.”

Steve shook his head and squared his shoulders, glaring at the man. This was a man who was a potential threat to his step-son, a potential threat to his husband and Steve wouldn’t be cowed.

“I don’t think that’s particularly appropriate, do you, Mister Stane?”

“Obadiah, please. And it’s a completely natural act, no reason to be ashamed of it. Though, if you need to do that in your spare time, maybe Howard wasn’t such a great choice for you. I’d hate for you to go looking elsewhere when your wrists get bored and break the man’s heart.”

The glint in Obadiah’s gaze told Steve just how much he’d _hate_ that and Steve gritted his teeth at the insult. Regardless, Steve knew how to play these games; he’d seen Howard play them enough at fancy parties. The trick was to keep it polite, even if you openly hated the other person. See who could keep up the illusion longer.

“Howard keeps me plenty satisfied, if you must know. I don’t have any complaints in that area, not that it’s any of your business Mister Stane.”

Obadiah’s grin made something inside Steve’s chest clench tight, and the man’s low rolling laugh didn’t help matters.

“Oh, I’m well aware of just how _satisfying_ Howard Stark can be.”

Steve instantly thought back to the conversation he’d had with Jarvis and felt his heart stutter in his chest. Had the older man been wrong? Had Howard and Obadiah actually been lovers when they were younger?

“There you two are! Marta says dinner will be ready in ten which is a very polite way of saying you **will** be here in ten minutes to eat, or you will eat the silverware.”

Obadiah turned with a blinding grin as Howard’s footsteps echoed through the hall. The man appeared in the doorway beside Stane, who clapped a hand on his shoulder and offered Steve one last smirk before disappearing. Howard strode into the room, grinning at Steve and reaching up to pull him down into a kiss. 

Steve allowed their lips to brush only slightly before pulling away, feeling the ball of ice that has taken residence where his heart once sat melting a bit at the confused look in Howard’s eyes.

“Darling, is everything okay? Did Tony say something today?”

Steve shook his head mutely and crossed the room, glancing to make sure the hall was empty before closing the door and leaning against it. Howard had turned with him and stood with his hands on his hips, looking like he was ready to hunt down and kill whatever had displeased Steve.

God, if he only knew…

“I’m going to ask you something and I want you to be one hundred percent honest with me, Howard. The answer doesn’t matter so much as the honesty does.”

Howard nodded sharply at the lifeless tone Steve had, brows furrowing as his arms crossed. Steve swallowed sharply at the position and reminded himself it was Howard’s natural defense mechanism to stand that way when a conversation became serious and it didn’t indicate anything. 

He steadfastly ignored the venomous voice that hissed that it did.

“Were you and Obadiah lovers?”

Howard blinked and Steve’s heart fell for a moment before the other man shook his head.

“No, God no, Steve, where in the world would you even **get** an idea like that?”

He shrugged and mumbled what Obadiah had told him, cheeks flushing at Howard’s bark of laughter.

“Steve, darling, we shared a room together at a co-ed boarding school. I had girls in and out of there all the time, that’s probably what he was referring to. Besides, ask any of Obi’s four ex-wives, they’ll tell you he’s extremely straight.”

Howard crossed the room and took Steve’s cheeks in his hands, pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth to punctuate his last words.

“Besides, even if he was, my tastes run to young blonde artists, not balding cranky businessmen.” 

Steve felt like an ass as Howard tried to sooth his fears and buried his head in Howard’s shoulder, whispering that he shouldn’t have even asked.

Howard walked them both backwards until he was seated on the same lounge Steve had laid on, settling Steve between his thighs. As Steve curled his legs under him the plug shifted, sending dual waves of heat and shame through him.

God, would Howard even _want_ to fuck him after this debacle?

“Hey, sweetheart, look at me.”

Steve brought his eyes up slowly, locking them on the way Howard had taken his hand and was rubbing slowly over Steve’s wedding ring before continuing, eventually meeting the older man’s gaze. Howard’s eyes were impossibly soft as he carded a gentle hand through Steve’s hair, nails tracing slow patterns from the front to the back of his skull.

“What’s really going on, Steve?”

Howard’s soft tone opened the floodgates and he blurted out everything; his fears about not being good enough for Howard, fears about Tony hating him, fears about this vacation being the worst thing in the world and them growing apart for it.

He realized halfway through his rant that tears of frustration were streaking down his cheeks and in response buried his face in the soft weave of Howard’s pants, clutching at the man’s hand and his pants hem. The whole time Howard simply kept up his strokes on Steve’s hair and his ring, softly whispering that he loved him and that he was always going to be good enough. That Tony already liked him more than he ever had Howard, and that this vacation was going to be the best he’d ever had because he was going with Steve.

Steve’s sobs eventually died off but he kept his face buried, unable to look at his lover after the spectacle he’d made of himself. Howard wasn’t having it though and took the hand that been stroking his hair and lifted his head with two gentle fingers under his chin. Steve took both hands and scrubbed roughly at his face, trying to wipe away all the traces of tears on his cheeks.

Howard waited patiently until he was done before cupping his face and kissing him gently, their tongue’s tangling in a lazily affectionate way, not a heated one. He drew back and wiped away a stray tear from the arch of Steve’s jaw, his face shifting from concerned to determined.

“Darling, do you remember the friend I used to talk about? The one who I met during the Special Ops work?”

Steve thought back and nodded. When their relationship had begun, and Howard did something that Steve thought he’d never think of, he’d pestered the man into finally admitting he was getting his ideas from an old friend he’d met during his time making weapons for Special Ops troops. He’d said the man was in a similar situation to them, his lover being very much younger than him as well, and gave great advice on how to bridge that gap. Howard hadn’t told him much else, Steve got the feeling he wasn’t really allowed to, but the memory had stuck.

“Yeah, what about him?”

“He told me once that if you ever felt like this, were ever struggling with this, that you could call anytime and he was sure his lover would be more than happy to talk to you. Steve, honey, if I’d have known you were feeling like this, I’d have offered much sooner, but you always seemed to have it so together.”

Steve nodded in understanding and shifted into a more comfortable position between Howard’s legs, ignoring the pleasurable ache and pull aside from a stray thought that Howard was going to be able to fuck him as hard as he wanted tonight after all the stretching he was doing.

“I guess it all just hit me when I met Tony how in over my head I was. And then the thing with Obadiah…I’m sorry Howard.”

“No, no sweet boy, no,” Howard kissed his forehead softly. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I should have offered it to begin with; I should have asked how you would feel about   
Tony coming here. I assumed and it was a mistake and I’m sorry.”

Steve grinned up at the man, suddenly struck by the thought that wouldn’t Wall Street like to see Howard Stark as he was now, humble and apologetic and still holding Steve’s hand.

“I’d…I think I’d like to talk with him, if that’s alright?”

Howard nodded and pulled out his phone, hips twisting in a particularly interesting way as he dug in his pocket for it. Steve licked his lips, laughing at the arched brow Howard shot him as he pressed a few buttons on the screen.

“I pulled up his contact information; all you have to do is hit call. Just tell him who you are, he’ll understand. I can’t promise he’ll be in our time zone but he said anytime, and he owes me.”

Steve nodded as Howard dropped the phone into his hands, giving him one last kiss before shooing him out of the room, telling him to go make excuses for their absence and promise Marta he’d be down shortly. 

He climbed to his feet and paced the room for a minute, glancing at the screen as he did. Unlike the rest of Howard’s contacts that had a photo linked to them and their full name, this contact card simply read Chicago and in place of a picture had the infamous Ranger symbol. He finally made up his mind and hit the call button, bringing the phone to his ear as he pushed open the doors to the private garden, wandering out and looking around at the beauty that was the sculptures and plants in the fading light.

A click sounded through the line and then, “Stark?”

The voice sounded rough, like he’d pulled someone out of their sleep, and Steve winced before replying.

“Um, no, actually this is Steve, Howard’s husband? He said that I could call and talk to-“

“Oh, yes, I remember. One minute, if you please, Steve.”

The way the voice immediately went from sleep-roughened to completely awake and distantly polite had Steve blinking, dumbfounded as small noises emanated from the speaker, indicative of someone moving around, before a whispered conversation. The phone stopped moving and another voice came through, this one tinged with a slight Midwestern accent and garbled like the man was trying to speak with a mouthful.

“Yellur?”

“Um, hi? This is Steve, um, Steve Stark? Howard-“

“Stark’s husband, yeah, how ya doin’?”

Whatever had been in the man’s mouth was suddenly gone and the clink of dishes in the background made Steve think he’d caught the man at the tail end of a meal. Damn, his timing was sucking all around today.

“Good, um, if I’m interrupting I can-“

“Naw, you’re fine. Just finishing up breakfast. What’s goin’ on?”

Breakfast? Where in the world were these two?

“Well, Howard said I could call if I ever needed someone to talk to so…”

“Yeh, not a problem. Are you insecure because he _could_ do better or insecure that he _has_ done better?”

Steve blinked at the insight. It was startling to hear his own fears and insecurities drawled back at him through the phone.

“Ah, both, I guess.”

“Alright, answer this, how’s your sex life?”

Steve felt his cheeks flush once again and reminded himself there had to be a reason behind it. He didn’t particularly want to discuss his private life with a complete stranger, but   
Howard trusted this man’s partner, and that said a lot.

“It’s…well, it’s really good. Fantastic. Every day usually.”

“Well lookit you, lucky bastard.” He could hear the man’s grin through the phone and couldn’t help but grin back. This man, whoever he was, was incredibly easy going, and Steve thought if they’d ever met, they’d probably get along swell.

“Alright then, so it’s time for the lightning round. I’ll ask the questions, you answer immediately, alright?”

“A-Alright, fair enough.”

“Who does he come home to every day?”

“Me.”

“Whose name is he screaming out when he comes?”

“M-Mine.”

“Who’s got the ring, his last name, and access to all his shit?”

“I do.”

“Aaaaand for our final question, who does he love more than anyone else in the world?”

“Me.”

Steve blinked at the last question and the answer that had slipped so easily from his lips. He…oh God, he was a moron. He let out a short, slightly hysterical laugh.

“I-Oh, wow, I can’t believe how easy that was.”

“Being in a relationship with someone older ain’t always simple, but it is actually pretty easy. You just gotta remind yourself they love you a little more frequently. As Dr. Phil as it sounds, key to a happy relationship is opening your trap once in a while and tellin’ the other person what you’re feeling, or thinking. Well that and, y’know...”

“I know?” Steve was honestly curious and he’d take every scrap he could from the man who seemed to know it all.

The man chuckled and Steve heard rustling and creaking like he’d laid himself down in bed.

“Be able to suck the chrome off an exhaust pipe.”

Oh, sweet Lord.

Steve’s face, he was sure, resembled a tomato and the squeak he let out had the other man bursting into laughter. There was a slight scuffle and then the man who’d answered the phone came back on the line.

“Everything alright now, son?”

“Yes, sir, thank you.”

The low, collected voice made everything snap into place and Steve realized the Ranger symbol wasn’t because Howard had met him during the assignment. This guy…this guy was, or used to be, a real life Ranger. 

“Don’t be afraid to call back if you need something else. And a word of advice from the other end of the relationship; we get just as insecure as you do. Stark may not show it as easily, but he’s gone through exactly what you are. Just remember that when it seems like he’s off.”

Steve nodded before realizing the man couldn’t actually see him, thanking him profusely. They said their goodbyes and right before Steve hung up it occurred to him he’d just asked a complete stranger for relationship advice.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

“Hmm?”

“What, uh, what’s his name? Your partner’s, I mean.”

The phone was passed over and that same lazy drawl came into the speaker.

“Clint. Name’s Clint.”

“Well, Clint, thank you again.”

“No problem Steve, like he said, I’m here to please. And if you’ll excuse me I’m going to do just that.”

The line went dead before Steve could process exactly what he’d meant, but when he figured it out he resisted the urge to bang his forehead into the screen.

On second thought, if he ever did meet the man, he’d probably be too busy trying to cool his cheeks off to even speak up.


	7. How To Satisfy The Man Who Has Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner is finally a quiet affair, Obadiah is still a creepy mother, and Steve's plan blows Howard's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains...er, I'm not exactly sure how to phrase it. Consensual insults during sex? Sure, let's go with that. And gratuitous use of the f-word, in all it's forms. Enjoy the smut! Hopefully it makes up for last chapter's lack :D

Dinner was, thankfully, much less combative this time, Tony too caught up quizzing Steve about Bucky and Howard discussing business with Obadiah to really talk to each other enough to bring about a fight. Something told Steve that Howard had let Marta know what was going on because instead of glares and harsh words he got a gentle kiss on the cheek as she bustled out to let everyone know dessert would be served in 15.

Obadiah leaned back and patted his stomach, huffing as he did.

“Dessert? Good god, Marta, marry me.”

“Flattering, Mister Stane, but I have no interest in being ex-wife number 5.”

He grinned at her words as Tony and Howard chuckled, watching her stride back into the kitchen, the swinging of the door letting the smell of warm apple and cinnamon into the room. Steve sniffed appreciatively, regretting his actions quickly when it brought Obadiah’s attention back to him. The man sat forward once again, taking a sip from his tumbler and gesturing to Steve with an extended finger.

“So, the commission I was asking about.”

“Wait, what? Commission?” Tony’s head lifted from where he’d been texting on his phone. Steve could see he’d somehow wrangled Bucky’s number from him but he couldn’t see the conversation and merely hoped Bucky wasn’t being too hard on the kid. Steve remembered what it was like to be 16 and have a crush.

“Yes, Tony, Steve’s an artist.”

“Really?” Tony’s head swiveled towards him.

Steve nodded and took a sip from his drink.

“That’s actually how your dad and I met, at an art opening.”

“Best night-I-wasn’t-looking-forward-to ever.” 

Howard shot him a wink and a salute with his wineglass, and Steve grinned. He’d been surreptitiously pushing Howard more towards the wine than the scotch tonight, knowing that wine made him more desperate and sensitive in the bedroom. It would appear his plan was working.

He turned his attention back to Obadiah reluctantly, pasting on a smile as Tony’s phone beeped and his attention was instantly gone from the conversation they’d been having.

“Yes, what were you thinking?”

“Something for my office, one of the secretaries mentioned off-hand that the walls could use a little color and I realized she’s right. So, of course, I went snooping to see what 

Howard had and he’s got the most gorgeous view of NYC at night with your name in the corner.”

Steve couldn’t help but grin with pride at that. Howard buying that painting had been the catalyst for their first conversation, Steve apprehensively walking over to the billionaire to thank him after he’d been told it had sold. Of course, once Howard saw him the conversation shifted from the generic “you’re welcome, it’s a nice piece” to “what are you doing later? I have a fantastic idea that involves you, me, and a very nice restaurant down the street.”

“You can’t have something like that. That’s mine and Steve’s thing. Pick another landscape.”

Howard winked at Steve again over the rim of his glass, as Obadiah laughed, knocking a friendly hand against Howard’s shoulder.

“Don’t monopolize the artist, Howard. You’ll stifle his creativity! So, Steve, what do you say?”

He propped his chin on his fist and thought for a moment. Art was his way of expressing himself, putting his emotions and thoughts down onto canvas or paper, saving them as memories he could share with others and let their own feelings and memories sink into the piece. Staring at Obadiah, he realized that he could use this as another way to express how he felt to the man.

“Of course, yeah, anything for a friend of Howard’s. I’m thinking a winter scene, maybe of a cabin during Christmastime? Something that inspires feelings of warmth and home.”

To remind Obadiah he _didn’t_ have that warmth, and was the one standing out in the cold.

“Hey, there you go Obi, now when you’re tearing down the competition, they’ll feel like they’re back with mom!”

Everyone laughed at Tony’s smart remark, Obadiah barely getting out that the idea sounded perfect before the couple of people who helped with serving came in with plates full of what looked like Howard’s choice dessert. 

“Ah! Marta, you fantastic woman, is that the apple betty with-“

“Almond cream, yes, I thought Tony might enjoy getting his favorite dessert tonight since last night I’m told you didn’t really get to that portion of the evening.”

It was amazing how two men who were so very confidant and sure of themselves could wither under the glare of an unassuming woman in a bright pink apron. Steve took note that the dessert was a favorite of Tony’s too; saving the information for the next time Howard claimed they had **nothing** in common. He thanked the man who put it in front of him, clearing away his other plates with a nod and a polite smile. Inhaling the sweet smell of baked apples and fresh cinnamon, he opened his eyes to see the others doing the same.

Well, Obadiah and Howard were, Tony was, it appeared, attempting to fit half the bowl in his mouth at once.

“Tony, Jesus, manners.”

Howard’s tone was not quite as sharp as it had been the night before, and Tony merely grunted into his bowl, chewing the frankly impressive amount he’d managed to cram into his face. Marta simply rolled her eyes and strode around the table to plant a kiss on the back of his head, saying her goodbyes and insisting Jarvis walk her to the door. Marta always got Saturday nights off, Howard had told him, because she had volunteered at her church on Sunday mornings and the one time she’d stayed over Howard had walked into the kitchen at 4 am to see cookies for the Sunday school children covering every flat surface he owned.

It wasn’t the cookies themselves that had bothered Howard; it was the repeated smacks he got on the back of his hands when he kept trying to thieve some.

Tony swallowed hard, letting out a tiny gasp and reaching for the milk they’d been brought with the dish, gulping like his life depended on it.

“ **Tony**!”

Howard’s snap made Tony pull the glass from his lips and by the look in his eyes Steve knew he had to move quickly to avoid another fiasco like last night. He grabbed for his own drink, nonchalantly letting his fork come down into the empty spot in his bowl with a soft clang, bringing Howard’s eyes to him for a moment. Deliberately tilting his glass too far back, he pulled it away and curled a slow tongue over the milk staining his upper lip, mentally cheering at the way Howard’s pupils widened.

Just like that, his focus was off Tony and Steve gave himself a pat on the back for successfully avoiding another argument. If he could just keep this up a while longer, maybe their urge to fight constantly would just eventually disappear.

He turned his head to make sure Tony had dropped it too and froze when he realized that in drawing Howard’s attention he’d also drawn Obadiah’s, whose gaze lingered on his lips. Steve shook off a shudder and brought his napkin to his mouth, cleaning off the lingering wetness. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tony slip his phone into his pocket, pushing away from the table and standing.

“Well, I’m gonna head to bed, pack up and everything. Night, Obi, guys.”

They said their goodnights in return, Steve shooting Howard a meaningful look at Tony’s broad inclusion. He scowled in response and drank deeply from his wine, setting his fork down in the almost empty bowl. The air thickened between the three, unbeknownst to Howard who looked to be merely enjoying the feeling of being full and comfortable.

“Wellllll, we better be getting to bed too, sweetheart. We’ve got just as much packing to do as Tony, and we won’t have much time to do it in the morning.”

Howard nodded and was readying himself to stand when Obadiah cleared his throat, speaking up suddenly.

“Actually, Steve, you won’t mind if I borrow Howard for a few more moments, right? I’ve got just a couple more tiny things I’d like to go over with him, you know, to avoid having to interrupt your vacation.”

_No_ , Steve wanted to shout and stomp his foot, _you **can’t** have my husband for any longer_!

But he wanted an uninterrupted vacation more than he wanted to thwart Obadiah and he grinned tightly with a short nod, dropping a possessive kiss onto Howard’s smiling mouth and striding away, calling his goodbyes over his shoulder.

He made his way to their shared room and decided packing could wait until after he and Howard got their alone time in. Instead, he strode into the bathroom and turned on the water, watching it spill into the massive tub before straightening and rolling his neck to alleviate the tension gathered there. Steve tossed in one of the foaming bubble bath balls Bucky had bought him as a joke for his ‘bachelorette party’, which consisted of Bucky and some of their college friends buying the stereotypical girl things for Steve and drinking until they could no longer look at them without bursting into laughter.

He hit the button on the side to turn on the Jacuzzi jets and laughed at the foam that immediately started bubbling up, an obnoxious pink color that he’d been saving to use last. Steve was sure Bucky hadn’t thought he’d actually use the things they’d bought for him, but some things, like the bubble bath and the candles Morita had tossed at him for ‘mood lighting’ actually came in handy some nights.

Steve began stripping out of his clothes, moaning at the stretch he’d been ignoring up until now. That was the unfortunate part of Doctor Erskine’s tests. Steve had a rapid healing factor that made it less scary to work with X-Acto blades, but it also made it impossible for him to stretch himself completely, as his muscles would re-tense after a while. Luckily, Steve liked a bit of pain during sex, or they wouldn’t be able to go at it as hard as they did sometimes.

He reached down and slipped off the cock ring, hissing at the way his cock immediately filled and rose, halfway to rock hard just from the pressure of the plug inside him. Steve hid it in a drawer before carefully stepping into the tub, moaning when he settled and the jets of water seemed to hit right on every ball of tension he had, releasing them slowly.

“Now _that_ is one pretty sound.”

Steve looked up quickly at Howard’s drawl and smiled at the man lounging against the door frame, arms and legs crossed loosely, his shoulder holding his body at an angle. He crooked a finger at his lover, silently urging him to join him. Howard pushed off from the doorway and immediately began to strip off his clothes, tossing them into the chute that led to the laundry. He strode over to the tub once he was stripped bare and waved a hand at Steve, who complied and slid forward so Howard could settle himself behind him. He leaned back once the man was settled, laughing at the slide of their slick skin and the press of Howard’s partial erection into his lower back.

Howard pressed a kiss to the back of his neck and Steve shivered, half tempted to just turn and beg the man to fuck him. But he had a plan and he wanted tonight to go perfect, to make up for his break-down earlier. 

When Howard and Steve had first gotten together they’d talked in depth about any fantasies they had, laying out boundaries and what they were and were not okay with. Howard had revealed, one late night in the smoking room while Steve curled up between his legs, stealing sips from his brandy, that his fantasy was his lover just using him for their own pleasure. He’d explained that he was always the one to get his lover off, had been told his whole life he was fantastic in bed and his lovers were never left wanting. But, he’d confided, he wanted someone to flat out tell him he sucked and the only way they were going to get off is if he just laid there and let them use him how they pleased. Steve had been waiting for the right moment to fulfill the fantasy, not wanting to waste it on something trivial or cliché, like doing it after an argument or just on a random night.

He twisted in the man’s arms, rubbing against him more than was technically necessary for the motion, and kissed him, letting Howard take control of the kiss for the moment. Steve pulled back after a while, nudging their noses together and breathing out the question that would change the quiet atmosphere he’d so carefully set up.

“Safeword?”

Howard yanked back slightly, one brow arched up in question. Steve kept his face neutral, meeting his lover’s eyes and matching the brow raise with one of his own. Howard smirked and pursed his lips in an ‘alright, fine’ gesture, eyebrows bobbing with the motion.

“Fondue.”

Steve nodded and pulled him into another kiss, waiting patiently for Howard to take control once again before planting a hand on the man’s chest and pulling back, twisting his features into a scowl of disgust.

“God, you suck at kissing, you know that?”

Howard’s eyes widened for a moment before Steve saw the light bulb go off over his head, arousal glinting in his eyes as he frowned at him.

“I’m sorry?”

“You should be,” Steve scoffed, pulling away further and crossing his arms. “You know, when I got into a relationship with you I figured, what the hell, right? With age comes experience. But you really haven’t learned shit have you? I mean, it’s like trying to screw a virgin.”

Howard’s eye darkened and Steve internally cheered. He wasn’t aiming for this to become too charged, he wanted to still be able to cuddle with the man afterwards, but if Howard just passively went along it wouldn’t feel right.

“I’ve never had any complaints before.”

Steve rolled his eyes and poked a finger in the middle of Howard’s chest, fighting the grin that threatened to spread at the brush of hair. God, he loved that Howard had hair on him. Not a lot but enough to prove he was a man of age and distinction.

“Well it’s certainly not me because I’ve always been able to cum before. But with you? I’ve got a better chance at getting off if you lay there and just let me fuck myself on your cock than if you were to actually try.”

Howard spread his arms wide, glaring at Steve despite the fact that his pupils were huge and his cock was rock hard against Steve’s thigh.

“Have at it, kid. Just don’t start begging me when you can’t get yourself off.”

Steve glared and stood in a rush of water, stepping out in a deliberate wide spread of his legs so Howard could glimpse the base of the plug. The low choked off sound his lover emitted told him he’d been successful and he toweled off quickly, striding into the bedroom and standing at the base of the bed.

“Get in here; I’m not gonna fuck you in the tub.”

He heard Howard’s grunt and the splash of water as the man complied with Steve’s shouted order, looking over when he strode into the room. Steve swallowed at the bounce of Howard’s thick cock as he strode towards him, almost breaking character as his mouth watered to taste it. He locked his knees and shook the thoughts off, telling himself that this was about Howard not him.

Steve snapped his fingers impatiently and whirled his finger in a hurry-up motion.

“Come on, I don’t have all day. God, this is almost as bad as you fumbling through foreplay.”

Howard glared at him and stomped the remaining few feet between them, stopping inches from Steve so the tip of his cock bumped Howard’s stomach, sending lighting up his spine at the contact. The glint was still in his eyes and his cock was still rock hard so Steve knew this was working out perfectly.

He reached up and bunched a hand in Howard’s slick hair, grasping hard enough that his lover would feel it but that it wouldn’t hurt.

“Standing there glaring at me isn’t doing shit to get me off. Let’s see if fucking your throat can get me there.”

Howard dropped immediately, more fluidly than most his age would be able to, and Steve kept his grip as his lover sucked in the head of his dick, hand grasping the base to steady it. He bit back a moan at the hot, tight pressure of Howard’s mouth and gritted his teeth to stave off the need to buck until he’d set up a way out for Howard.

“Here,” he sneered, ripping away the hand Howard had wrapped around him and placing it on his thigh.

“You can squeeze if it’s too much for your delicate throat.”

Howard nodded sharply and Steve took that as permission, bringing his other hand up and shifting his grip so he had a hold on either side of Howard’s head before thrusting forward harshly. Howard’s throat tightened for a split second around him before he blew a gust of air out of his nose and relaxed it. Steve set a brutal pace, keeping his hips still and using his grip on Howard’s head to fuck into his lover’s willing throat. Howard took everything Steve gave; careful to keep a loose grip on his thigh so it wouldn’t stop.

By the time Steve felt himself getting close, Howard’s eyes were glistening with liquid and he had reached his free hand down to fist himself in time with Steve’s thrusts. He yanked his cock free from the man’s mouth, shuddering at the gasp Howard let out as he used the grip on Steve’s thigh to steady himself. Using the fists still clenched down he tilted Howard’s head up, loving the sharp bob of his lover’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard.

“Ridiculous. You can’t even blow me right and I was doing all the damn work. Plus, you were fucking your own hand. This isn’t about you, for once in your goddamn life. Get on the bed.”

Howard stood and quickly moved, sprawling on his back, his dick so hard it damn near stood straight. Steve straddled the tops of his thighs and guided Howard’s hand down until   
it brushed the base of the plug. As expected, Howard groaned and bucked up against him at the motion, eyes fluttering as he felt around it gently.

“See? You’re so lousy I’ve got to buy shit to keep me feeling good.”

Howard’s eyes popped open and his glare made Steve think he’d crossed the line, but what came out of his mouth certainly wasn’t the safeword.

“A toy can’t match up to a real cock.”

“Hell of a lot better than wasting my time trying to get an orgasm with you.”

“If you want one so fucking badly, then stop talking and do something.”

Steve gritted his teeth at the condescension in his tone. Somewhere along the lines, he’d fallen completely into the role he was supposed to be playing, as had Howard. Reaching over to the bedside table he fished out a plain container of lube and tossed it at Howard, who caught it just before it hit his chest.

“Slick your cock, this is gonna be shitty enough without trying to do it raw.”

Howard complied, pouring a fair amount into his hand and sliding his fist up and down his cock. Steve reached back and gently eased the plug out, whimpering when the last bit slid free, before placing it out of the way to the side. He knocked Howard’s hand away and moved up, gripping the base of the thick cock and, with a prayer he really had stretched as much as he thought, lined it up and let his body drop.

Their mingled shouts as Howard slid balls deep in one go echoed around the room and Steve braced himself on his thighs, breathing heavily at the sudden feeling. Howard’s fists were white-knuckled in the comforter, his chest heaving up and down. He opened his eyes and locked them with Steve’s, desperation shining in them. Steve nodded mutely and started to move his body up and down, whimpering on every downstroke as Howard’s cock brushed his prostate. He planted his hands on Howard’s chest and used it as leverage to bounce more furiously, rolling his hips on the way down to make sure the head of his lover’s cock hit his prostate dead on every time.

“Fuck, fuck, yeah. God, this is the only damn thing you’re good for, being a fucking dildo to help get someone off. Yeah, yeah, I’m gonna cum. Howard, fuck, fucking jack me, c’mon.”

Howard groaned and reached up to wrap a hand around Steve’s cock. Within a few strokes Steve was screaming through his teeth, slamming himself down on Howard and spurting cum all over his lover’s chest. Howard braced his feet and used the bed to flip them, Steve landing hard on his back as aftershocks still worked their way through him. He palmed the undersides of Steve’s thighs and shoved his legs wide, somehow still inside him after the movement, pounding into him like a man possessed, mouth spilling filth into the heated air between them.

“Fucking hell, baby doll, you have no idea how hot it was watching you use my dick to get yourself off. Feeling your cock down my throat. If I’d have known you were plugged I’d have bent you over the damn table and gotten my dick in you right then and there. You’re fucking perfect Steve, goddamnit, I’m going to cum so hard.”

Steve writhed as every hard thrust sent shivers through him, Howard’s cock feeling thick as his forearm to his sensitive flesh.

“Yes! Yes, Howard, please, cum inside me. I want to be fucked loose and filled with your cum. Please, c’mon, fill me up.”

Howard slammed in twice more, so hard Steve felt the impact rattle his back teeth before stiffening and moaning out Steve’s name, his nails biting into Steve’s flesh as he gripped hard. Steve reached up and tugged his lover to lie flat on his chest, Howard’s forehead falling onto the top of his shoulder and his breath brushing his collarbone. He smiled at the way Howard kept their chests separate, trying to not get Steve all dirty too. After a few moments Howard slowly drew back, both of them whining at the feel of him pulling free. 

Once he was out he guided Steve’s legs to the bed as Steve clenched his muscles, trying to keep his lover’s cum inside him. Howard’s eyes darkened as he looked down and brushed a finger over Steve’s swollen hole, smirking at the whine Steve couldn’t choke back.

“I’ve got so much I want to do on this vacation baby. Want to take a whole day to just keep fucking you, spilling more and more of my cum inside you, and plugging you. Keeping it there like I’m gonna knock you up. Want to dress you up all jazzy, Big Daddy’s little slut, and come all over your pretty face. And I want to fill you up and then suck my cum out of you. Want you to cum knowing that I’m licking you open and tasting me.”

Steve whimpered and nodded along. He was okay with that, he was okay with all of that.

Jesus, was he ever okay with it.

But there was aftercare to every scenario and he pushed gently at Howard until the man moved, standing and keeping his muscles tight as he turned to face his lover who’d shifted to the edge of the bed. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth, pulling back to press their foreheads together.

“You know all that stuff I said was just for fun, right? You’re the most amazing thing I’ve ever had, Howard.”

His lover grinned up at him and pulled him in for another kiss.

“Of course I do,” he said once they’d separated for air. “And you’re the most amazing thing I’ve ever had, darling boy. And I’ll always have you, only you.”

Steve grinned at the sudden wave of happiness that flowed through him at the words, straightening and shifting his stance absently. He gasped as a trickle of Howard’s cum slid free at the motion, tightening his muscles once again. It had been enough to catch Howard’s interest however, and his lover reached through his legs, blindly zeroing in on where the cum had slid down onto his thigh and scooping it up onto one finger. He drew his hand back and neatly licked it off, grinning darkly at Steve, who shuddered at the action.

“Alright, alright,” Steve started, pulling Howard to his feet and walking towards the bathroom.

“No more, we still need to clean off and pack and if I let you have your way we won’t get anything done tonight!”

Howard’s laughter echoed in the enclosed space as Steve leaned over to re-fill the tub Howard must’ve had enough mind to pull the drain of before he’d climbed out. He grinned over his shoulder at the man lounging against the bathroom counter, watching him with hooded eyes.

God, he was one lucky, lucky boy. And he was going to spend this vacation proving that he knew that. But Howard was mistaken if he thought the trip was going to be all about them fucking on every surface in the beach house.

“You realize our plans are all well and good and we can definitely do them, but you do still have to bond with Tony right?”

Howard groaned and dropped his head into his hands, muttering how he hated Steve as Steve turned to pat his head condescendingly.

Oh yes, this vacation was going to be amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be Tony's POV, rewinding to what he was doing while Steve and Howie were getting down :)


	8. Tony's Night In: A.K.A Bucky Barnes Has A Filthy Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's POV from what he was up to when Steve and Howie were getting down. (Shout-out to Aikoss who gave me the fantastic bargain Bucky comes up with! :D)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: CONTAINS ADMITTANCE OF PAST SEXUAL ABUSE FROM FAMILY MEMBERS. Brief, but it's there. If it's something that squicks you, skip all the italicized text messages part and you'll be good.
> 
> Also: Bucky Barnes has a filthy mouth. Like...worse than Howard or Steve filthy. And Tony's not much better. This chapter contains talk, (though not actual actions) of consensual marking/face-slapping/extremely rough sex. If this is not your cup of tea, please feel free to skip over this one and we'll return to your regularly scheduled programming tomorrow :D
> 
> Text messages=italicized :)

Tony whipped his door open and kicked it shut behind him, throwing himself across his bed. He resisted the urge to squeal like a teenage girl at a boyband concert when his phone went off with another beep, signaling a new message, though he was sure the excitement levels were about equal.

Man, it had been hard as hell to get Bucky to give him his number, he’d had to all but beg, but the man had finally given in. And what’s more, he was actually responding to Tony! Without Tony having to send him ten texts first!

Rolling onto his back he opened the message, wondering what Bucky had said. He normally never got so excited over talking to someone, but there was something about the soldier that had caught Tony’s attention like a net. 

Other than the fact that he was smokin’ hot.

He read off Bucky’s message aloud, seeing the computer screen light back up at his voice, screen brightening as it went back from power-saving dimmed.

“At least you’re eating an actual meal. I got mac n cheese, hot dogs, n JD.”

“Sounds like a shitty meal for someone so rich.”

Tony frowned and flipped back over to look at his computer screen, where he’d left the video chat he’d been having with Rhodey up to see the other man still propped against the wall, papers spread around him on the bed.

“Not me, you ass. Bucky, Steve’s best friend. Why didn’t he just stay for dinner? He was welcome to, I heard Steve offer it.”

Rhodey shrugged and continued to sort through the massive stack of papers while Tony switched between glaring at his phone and at his friend. He and Rhodey would often do this; just leave their video chats pulled up on the computers while they both did other things. It was nice to be able to bounce ideas off one another when they would have them, and since Rhodey was sequestered away in a far off military base doing top secret stuff for the government, he needed someone to talk to about something other than work.

_Why didn’t u stay? Could have_

_Naw, ur dads friend gives me the heebs_

_Obi?! He’s harmless, swear_

_Hate to tell ya kid, he don’t look at u like hes harmless_

Tony blinked at the last message. What…in the world could Bucky mean by that? Sure, Obi was intense and stared Tony down but he always figured it was some alpha male bullshit like the stuff his dad was always trying to pull.

_Wat do u mean? Looks at me how?_

_Can’t explain it, take it from sum1 who knows, it’s not gr8_

_Wait, u think he wants to fuck me?! LMFAO! He’s my god-dad!_

_My Dad was blood. Didn’t stop him. Or my Uncle._

Tony froze, a ball of ice forming in his stomach at the plainly stated words. Bucky was…he’d been…

It was impossible. The guy was ripped, completely confidant, and smart as hell, and Tony had only spent a couple hours with him. There was no way someone like that had been a victim. 

_But if he’d been a child, he was none of those things_ , an insidious voice whispered to him.

And the lecture when he’d first gotten to MIT had taught him anyone can be a victim, but it’s not their fault. Victims are blameless. Victims are the ones who are shattered. He shook his head hard to clear the thoughts of Bucky having the dead look in his eyes he’d seen some of the ‘victims’ in the PowerPoint have and typed back with shaking hands.

_I’m really sorry. That fucking blows._

_It’s the past. I told you so u cud watch ur back. And so u realize Hwrd isn’t as big a dick as sum_

_U don’t understand, he was a cold, callous. Didn’t ever tell me he loved me, didn’t even tell me he liked me. He wasn’t the happy go lucky fuck he is now_

_U don’t understand kid. He changed n hes tryin. Ur the ass now._

_Doesn’t make up for the past._

_Jesus, let it go. He was a dick, u were a dick, ur even now_

Tony was irrationally angry at Bucky’s flippant tone and he gritted his teeth, hopping up to pace the length of his room, seeing Rhodey lean forward to look into the camera at the sudden noise and movement.

“Who the hell does he think he is?! What, he thinks just because I want his dick he gets to talk to me like that? Fuck him! He doesn’t know shit. I oughtta call and give him hell. Y’know what, I’m gonna. I’m gonna call and ream his ass out.”

“You do that buddy. I’ve gotta run these files up to Colonel Phillips anyways, not that I want to hear you fight with some dude you apparently want to bang. FYI, information I could’ve gone my whole life not knowing. Rhodey out.”

The video window blinked closed as Tony threw himself back on the bed on his stomach, grabbing the hands-free off the side table with a stretch and shoving it into his ear, hitting the button to call Bucky.

“’Lo?”

“Where do you get off?!”

“Mmmm, usually inside a warm, willing, legal adult. Why?”

“Oh, **fuck you** , Barnes. You’ve got no right telling me how to fucking feel about Howard.”

“Oh for fucks sake, really? Really, kiddo, you’re gonna bitch me out like you’re my girlfriend and I got you the wrong flowers for our anniversary? Alright, listen to me-“

“No! Fuck that, I don’t have to listen to anyone-“

“ **SHUT UP**!”

Tony blinked at Bucky’s yell, feeling his cheeks heat and, as strange as it was, his cock thicken at the snarled words.

“Shut up and listen to me little boy. I’ve been inside that man’s labs, inside his fucking cars, and you know what I can always find? A picture of a smug little shit that looks an awful lot like you. So he was a shitty dad when you were younger, are you young now? No. So put on your big girl panties, clean off your mascara and stop whining because you look fat when you cry. I’d have fucking killed someone in cold blood to have a dad who actually tries. Howard’s a boozehound asshole, yeah, but he loves my best friend and so as much as I hate him, I’m gonna protect him. Because if he’s upset, Steve’s upset.”

Tony couldn’t seem to close his mouth after Bucky’s rant, astonishment curling through him. No one…no one had ever talked to him like that. He was Howard Stark’s son, godddamnit. People bent over backwards for the chance to kiss his ass!

 _But_ , a tiny voice that sounded an awful lot like Rhodey whispered, _Bucky doesn’t give a damn about that. You’re not Anthony Stark, prodigal son set to inherit the Earth. You’re a young punk kid panting after his dick_.

“Did I hurt your feelings princess?”

“God, I want you to fuck me.”

Tony groaned at the words that spilled from his lips, slamming his face into his bedspread as Bucky’s laugh echoed through the phone.

“Direct, ain’t’cha? I already told you kid, I don’t screw twelve year olds.”

“I don’t see why it’s such a big fuckin’ deal. I’m a college graduate, I can consent just fine. Besides, you wouldn’t be the first, not even close.”

Bucky’s growl made the hair on the back of Tony’s neck stand up and he blinked at the wave of heat that spread from his stomach outwards.

“Should kill ‘em. Nobody should put their hands on a kid until he’s good and damn legal.”

Tony flinched at the low threat hanging behind Bucky’s words. Perhaps this wasn’t the best topic to argue with a man who’d just admitted he’d been molested as a kid. But Tony couldn’t stop himself. It was like the one time he’d had to get stitches. They hadn’t casted him and Jarvis had to drive him back to the ER in the middle of the night to get them re-stitched because Tony had pulled at them until they unraveled. 

It was also better than discussing his dysfunctional relationship with his pops.

“What if there wasn’t any touching?”

“…Y’lost me kid.”

“If you were here right now, what would you do to me?”

Bucky laughed harshly, inhaling in a way that made Tony realize he must be smoking as they talked.

Jesus, that shouldn’t be as hot as it was.

“You want me to have phone sex with you? Kid, I just met you.”

“We’ll be spending the whole week together. We need to bond quickly anyways right? Besides, people fuck after talking for five minutes. I think, in comparison, we’re doing pretty good at taking it slow.”

Bucky hmm’ed thoughtfully and Tony held his breath. Was he really considering? Fuck, he hoped so.

“Tell you what, bucko, I’ll make you a deal. I get you off, _over the phone_ you little punk, and tomorrow you go the whole day without picking a fight with your pops.”

Tony whined and bit his lip, thinking over his options. It was hard to control his temper around his dad, year of neglect and disregard pissing him off beyond belief. But he wanted so badly to hear Bucky growl sin at him in that voice and since his mom had sent him an email saying she hadn’t been able to find anything and she would look tomorrow, he was stuck with them for at least the beginning of the trip. So it’s not like he could promise it and duck out.

Decisions, decisions.

“I can’t promise I won’t fire back if he’s being an ass.”

“Not askin’ ya to. I’m askin’ you to not be a punk lil’ shit for one day.”

“Fuck, fine. I won’t pick fights with the old man tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright.”

Tony waited in the silence, kicking his feet back and forth impatiently. He knew if he rushed the man he wasn’t going to get anywhere and certainly wasn’t going to get off with him.

After a few moments of silence punctuated by Bucky’s inhales and exhales, Tony was practically vibrating with need and took the leap.

Starks were not known for their patience.

“Well?!”

“Well what?”

He groaned and slammed his head against the mattress again, speaking with his face mashed into the comforter.

“You’re supposed to be getting me off.”

“You really don’t have any patience do you, rich boy?”

“No!” Tony snapped, bringing his head up. “Not when I’m hard as a fucking rock and **someone** won’t open his mouth and pay up.”

Bucky’s low laugh curled around his spine, sending shivers of pleasure through the boy who shifted on the bed in response.

“Alright, alright. Jesus, kid. Can I preface by saying I don’t usually do this?”

“What, phone sex? Apparently not.”

“No, you little ass. Getting off underage kids.”

Tony grinned slyly at the grumble. Bucky was one hell of a guy. So concerned about Tony when others had shoved him down and screwed him without a thought to his age. Warmth spread through him at the thought that someone actually gave a damn and he shook his head. He could get addicted to the feeling of being cared for.

“You’re so focused on my age, is that a kink for you? Make you hot and hard?”

“My kink isn’t little snot-nosed brats who need to be put over someone’s knee and taught humility.”

Tony groaned and rocked his hips into the bed at the idea of Bucky pulling him over his lap and bringing one of those big hands down on his ass. Bucky must’ve caught the soft sound he tried to hide because he laughed again, low and dark and scraping another layer away from Tony.

By the time this ended, he was going to be stripped raw from this man.

“Apparently one of yours though. What gets you hot and hard, kiddo? What makes you wanna fuck your hand until you’re half outta your damn mind?”

“You.” Tony blurted out, hips still rolling gently into the bed, his cock rock hard by now.

“Me? What about me?”

“Everything. God ,your mouth, your hands, your body. Everything about you makes me wanna fucking explode.”

“Your dad’s right, y’know? You really gotta watch your mouth.”

“Can we **not** talk about my dad right now, please?”

“Aww, I thought all spoiled little shits had Daddy issues out the ass. You don’t wanna call me Daddy?”

“No, I wanna call you _sir_.”

The words slipped out of his mouth and Tony wished he could swallow them back down. That is, until he heard Bucky’s sharp inhale and groan.

“Shit, kid. Yeah, alright, you can call me sir. Want me to put you in your place? Kid like you needs a firm hand and since you rage against anyone else who tries to rein your ass in, might as well be me, right?”

“Yeah,” Tony breathed, flipping onto his back and palming himself through his jeans. “Yeah, want you to put me in my place. Put me right where you think I belong.”

“And what if I think you belong on your knees with my cock down your throat?”

He gasped and gripped harder, his hips bucking up to meet the pressure of his palm.

“Fuck, yeah, yes. Want that. Wanna suck you down. Please?”

Bucky cursed a low filthy snarl that made Tony whine and buck up again.

“You alone, kid?”

“Mmmhhmm, yeah. In my room.”

“Door locked?”

Tony shot up off the bed and quickly crossed the room, locking the knob and throwing the deadbolt for extra measure. He rested his forehead against the heavy oak, catching his breath before he answered.

“Is now.”

“Good. Now strip. And I mean everything off, kid, even your socks.”

He damn near busted his ass twice trying to rip off all his clothes in record time. Once he had everything off, he picked up his shirt and crossed to where his computer was still open, screen bright, and folded his shirt before draping it over the camera lens.

No point in not being cautious.

“Alright, I got it all off.”

“Good boy.”

The praise was as effective as a hand gripping onto his dick and he stumbled on his way back to the bed, catching himself on the chest that sat at the end.

“What about you?”

“’S not about me, punk.”

“No,” Tony cleared his throat at the ball that formed from the words. No one had ever made it all about him before, all too concerned with chasing their own orgasms to worry about if he enjoyed it.

“No, I mean, what are you doing? Describe it to me, so I can see it in my head. I’m…I’m a visual person, I need details. All the details.”

“Fucking wunderkids and their weird shit. Alright, fine, I’m sitting out on my balcony.”

That’s right, Bucky had mentioned the house being a hell of a lot nicer than his penthouse apartment. Tony had commented that a penthouse wasn’t anything to shake a stick at and Bucky had shrugged, explaining it was easy to afford with an inheritance and no one to send his army pay back to. He’d vaguely told Tony about the building, not that Tony didn’t instantly know when he’d mentioned private balcony.

There was only one tower of apartments close enough that Bucky could afford with private garages, which he’d bitched about having to get after Howard had bought him that sweet ass Shelby GT500 Tony had seen him climb into when they saw him off. Rhodey and his mom lived in the same building, in a penthouse as well. 

And Rhodey was a fantastic friend who loved his bestie Tony and was getting back in a month and _not_ dropping by to see him if he stuck around this summer would be a crime.

Aaannnnnd if Rhodey just happened to not be getting home for another hour and Tony wound up wandering around and finding Bucky’s apartment, what could be the harm in letting him in for a cup of coffee?

“Okay, and?”

“Pushy, pushy. I’m smoking and drinking, all things you’re not allowed to do.”

Tony growled in frustration and sat on the edge of the bed, studiously ignoring the almost painful erection between his legs.

Who said sixteen year olds had no self-control?

“Stop being difficult and tell me what I want to know.”

“What do you want to know? Jesus, punk, I’ve never had anyone give a damn what I was doing before.”

“I want to know everything. What you’re wearing, how you’re sitting, what hand do you hold your cigarette in, how’s the Jack feel when you drink it, is it on ice….Everything.”

Bucky snorted and Tony could hear him take a harsh drag before he blew it out in the familiar controlled rush of air that meant someone was getting frustrated.

“Alright, fine. I’m wearing shit for bed, which I was going to climb into until someone called me freaking out like a girl who got stood up for prom.”

“What is it?”

“Black basketball shorts and my PT shirt.”

“Mmmm, yeah, that’s a nice visual.” 

And it was. The idea of Bucky, who’d kept his jacket on the whole time he’d been there, dressed down for comfort was very appealing. Tony wondered if he had any tattoos on his arms, like other soldiers did. He wondered if the hair on his legs was as dark as what was on his head.

He wondered….

“How’re you sitting?”

“Like a whore. Thighs spread, slumped down in my chair because I’m at my own damn house and there’s no commander to tell me to sit up straight.”

Oh fuck. The idea of those powerful thighs spread wide was a delicious image and Tony eased himself onto his back in the middle of the bed to distract from the pulse that’d run through his body.

“Bet I could fit between them real nice. Want that? Want me sitting between your thighs like a pet?”

Bucky grunted and Tony thrust a fist triumphantly into the air at the sound. He knew that sound, knew it meant he wasn’t the only one getting hot and bothered by this.

“Maybe later then. Alright, so hands; where are they, what are they doing?”

“I’ve got a cigarette in one, my right one, and the other’s on my thigh. Hands-free are the best damn inventions of the century.”

“Agreed. So, Jack, huh? I pegged you for a whiskey man. Bet it tastes fantastic off your tongue. How do you take it? On the rocks?”

“Kid, what part of I’m in my own damn house did you not get? I’m drinking it from the bottle. Not everyone has fancy ass glasses to pour their drinks into at their houses.”

“Tumbler,” Tony corrected faintly, the idea of Bucky clenching a bottle in his fist and tipping it to swallow shorting out his brain for a second.

“What?”

“Glasses that your pour whiskey and scotch, any sipping alcohol really, into. Called tumblers. Look, **so** not important at the moment. How does it feel? Does it burn?”

“Burns in a good way. Never drank Jack before?”

Tony rolled his shoulders against the bed as he considered the question. He could lie, like he’d done all the way through MIT, tell Bucky if he’d read the papers he’d know Tony was apparently just as big on the hooch as his pops. But lying to Bucky, to someone he was genuinely interested in, seemed wrong.

“Never drank anything but wine.”

“Good. Kid like you doesn’t need to crawl into a bottle.”

He’d accepted it without a question, and that, in and of itself, was amazing.

“Love to taste it off your tongue though.”

“Be a good boy and maybe I’ll let’cha.”

And there went that hot pulse again.

“I’ll be your good boy, sir. What do you want me to do?”

“Shit…Alright, kid, fine. You bare?”

Tony nodded before palming his face and realizing Bucky couldn’t actually see him.

“Yeah, am. On my bed, completely naked.”

“Hard?”

“Fuck yes,” Tony breathed out, reaching a hand down to press his palm over his cock, jumping at the feeling.

“Watch your mouth, punk. You’re asking to get put over a knee. And get your hand off your cock.”

He ripped his hand away like he’d been burned, writhing at the sudden rush of air against heated skin.

“How did you-“

“Because you’re a kid. Can barely go five minutes without thinking about sex, knew you’d fist your dick as soon as you were naked.”

“But I….come on, man, I wanna-“

“I know exactly what you want. Figure out a proper way to ask and you can have it.”

Tony smirked, clicking his fingers to lower the lights in the room. He knew what Bucky was getting at, and really, he should have expected the control. Once the darkness set in around him it was easier to focus on Bucky’s voice, and his own responses.

“Please, sir, can I _please_ touch myself? Please? Want to _so_ bad, you’re making me so _hard_.”

Bucky cursed and there was the metallic click and hiss of a zippo before he spoke again and Tony grinned at the fact he was making the man damn near chain smoke.

“Yeah, fuck, yeah do it. Wrap your hand around your cock but don’t move it just yet.”

Tony reached down and wrapped a fist around himself, groaning at the hard pressure around the hot flesh.

“God that shouldn’t sound as hot as it does.”

“But it does?”

“Yeah, punk, it does.”

“Are you-“

“As a fucking rock kid, but this ain’t about me remember?”

God that visual alone was enough to make Tony whine and tighten his grip hard, shoving against the need to come that was trickling up his spine.

Bucky, sitting sprawled with his legs open, the fabric clinging and outlining a thick and hard cock. Shirt bunched up his back from the slouch, pulled tight across his abs. A glowing cigarette in one hand and the other wrapped around the neck of a JD bottle like Tony wanted it wrapped around his cock. He was outside, so the light would spill from the doors behind him, throwing his face into shadows.

Tony’s own personal dark lover.

And how fucking Harlequin was that?

“Want you to enjoy this too though. Want to know what you sound like when you come.”

Bucky groaned and huffed in amusement for a moment before he spoke.

“What’ya think the odds of being seen out here are?”

Tony’s mind, thankful for the distraction from the pounding need to jack off, immediately began processing nearby building heights, likelihood of aerial views, and triangulations of windows that had views of the man’s balcony.

“About 14.38% with a 7.9% rise if you don’t turn out your lights.”

There was a sudden silence and then…

“You’re making that shit up, right?”

“Nope,” Tony popped the p on the word. “Calculated with tons of variables, it’s the most precise numbers I can round to.”

“Jesus,” there was a creak and a sliding sound, like Bucky was moving around. Tony flushed hot when he realized the man was going inside. To turn out his lights? The sounds repeated and his hypothesis was confirmed when Bucky groaned, the sound of someone settling back into a comfortable position.

“You really are a genius, aren’t you?”

“Not right now. Right now I’m just your good boy and I really _really_ wanna come with your voice in my ear.”

“Alright, alright, pushy. Move your hand, slowly, tip to base and back again. And tell me how it feels.”

Tony moved his hand and winced at the feeling of his callouses tugging against dry skin, making a soft noise of displeasure. 

Bucky picked up on it instantly and cursed.

“Alright, no, we’re done. You don’t want this kid, and I’m not-“

“No! No, sorry, I want it, want you!”

“Then what the hell was that noise?!”

“It was…I didn’t…dry and it chafes.”

There was a silence and then Bucky uttered a sound like an dog who didn’t understand why it couldn’t get to the cat on the other side of the fence, a confused low whine.

“You didn’t..fuck, Tony, were you just gonna jack yourself dry?”

He jolted at the snarl of his name. Bucky had used it a few times today, usually to interrupt Tony when he went off on a tangent, or to get his attention when he was lost in his thoughts and a foot from meeting a wall face first. But this…like this and in this scenario it only served to make him hotter.

“You didn’t tell me to grab lube.” He muttered and Bucky laughed, a disbelieving note coloring the sound.

“You…you were going to rub yourself raw because I didn’t tell you to slick up? That’s…shit kid, that shouldn’t be fucking hot either but it is. Alright, grab lube, or whatever, hell, spit works in a pinch, but don’t do it dry.”

He fumbled in the drawer next to the bed grabbing the small bottle he’d stuck in there earlier and centering himself again. Pouring a ton over his fingers, he re-gripped himself and hissed at the slick slide of flesh.

“Shit, yeah, feels good.”

“Good, kid. What’d you use?”

“Lube, had some in the bedside table.”

“Fancy. Fancier than me at any rate.”

Tony opened his mouth to question the words when he heard Bucky spit and it shorted out his thinking process completely.

“Did you…Are you jacking off?”

There was a huff and a quiet, “yeah”.

Tony tightened his grip on his cock and fought to keep his motions slow and even. The image of Bucky, shorts shoved down to his knees, shirt rucked up exposing his stomach, and big fist wrapped around what was no doubt a big cock, was enough to make him want to just thrust and buck until he came all over himself.

But he wanted Bucky’s voice in his ear while he did.

“Can I-Talk.”

“Can you talk? Kid, you haven’t shut up since I met you.”

“No, no, no. You talk. Please. I’m half-fucking desperate for it.”

“Mmmm, you sound like it. You whine pretty kid, would you whine for me? Whine and whimper and beg for my cock?”

 ** _Jesus_**.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tony babbled, knees bending and heels digging into the mattress and he tossed his head from side to side and fought to keep his strokes slow. Bucky hadn’t told him to quicken yet.

“Bet it’d be a sight to see. But not for a while. Not until you turn 17.”

“And then? Then what? What’re you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna fucking _destroy_ you, punk. Fuck your fist while I talk, fast as you want. But do not come without permission, hear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Heh. You gonna call me that when I’m balls deep inside you? Gonna beg and whine in the hopes I’ll fuck you hard?”

“Yes. Yes, sir. Please, sir, fuck me hard. Wanna feel you.”

“Oh, you’ll feel me. Get your other hand slick, I know you’ve got an earpiece in. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Tony yanked his hand away from where it had been furiously stripping his cock and snapped open the lube bottle, pouring it over his fingers. Even his best wet dreams hadn’t been this good, and no one he’d ever met had gotten him this desperate to be fucked.

“Done.”

“Done what?”

“I’m done…sir.”

“Good boy. Now, take those down and slide two into you. Let me know how it feels, it’s gonna burn but that’s what it’s gonna feel like when my cock stretches you out. You tell me if it’s too much.”

Tony pushed and pulled at the covers with his feet until they bunched under his lower back, bringing his hips up, and reached down to shove two fingers in roughly. The stretch and burn had him gasping out Bucky’s name and squeezing the base of his dick hard, trying to stave off the orgasm that shot to the surface at the pain.

“Too much kid? Don’t you dare fucking hurt yourself again.”

“N-No. It hurts but…good hurt. I like it. Want it.”

Bucky let out a raw curse, and there was a heavy pause where all Tony heard was his harsh breathing.

“You like it? You want pain? Wanna be broken and bleeding when we’re through?”

“Yeah, fuck, yeah. Want you to ruin me. Want to be bruised and bitten and hit.”

The radio silence that started immediately when he said the last word made him want to roll over and bury his face in the pillows. His cheeks burned red as he stopped his hand and the slow twist of his fingers. He wouldn’t apologize for what he wanted, and fuck Barnes if it got too heavy for him.

“Oh, you’re fucking dangerous little boy. You make me wanna do all that shit. Shit that would get my ass thrown in jail to rot if your Daddy ever found out. Don’t stop fucking yourself on those fingers or jacking your cock.”

Oh. Well, alright then.

Tony restarted the movements, moaning at the fresh wave of sensation as he bucked his hips up into his fist then down onto his fingers.

“You want me to hit you, huh? Want me to leave bruises all over that pretty body? Tell me. Tell me when you want me to hit you. What’s your fantasy, kid?”

Here went nothing. If Bucky was going to back out, he’d back out after this. Tony had never revealed the desire to anyone but Rhodey, one late night on the phone as he lamented why he’d never be satisfied with anyone. Rhodey hadn’t understood, but he hadn’t judged Tony either. It made sense from a psychological standpoint, he’d reasoned to Tony. His whole life he’d been praised, told he was to inherit everything, that he was the smartest, the quickest, the best. Wanting something else was completely logical, if squicky to someone like Rhodey who’s biggest kink was wanting anal.

“I want to suck you off, get you almost there, jerking my cock as I do it. When you’re about to come, I want you to jack off and come all over my face, telling me that’s all I’m worth. Just a slut to cover in come. Then you notice I’m jacking off and..and..”

“And what kid? How do I punish the little whore for acting without sir’s permission?”

Alright, no more diving board left. Time to jump.

“I want you to slap me across the face, tell me how fucking worthless I am, how I can’t even follow simple orders. I want you to grip my jaw so hard you leave bruises, so it hurts to open my mouth the next day, and press your palm against my throat. Then I want you to tell me because I did so well, was at least good at sucking your cock, you’ll let me rub against your leg. Let me hump against your pants until I come. Oh, god, Bucky, Bucky, I’m so fucking close.”

“Don’t come. Don’t you dare fucking come, you little shit. Take your hand off your cock right fucking now.”

Tony sobbed and slammed his palm down onto the bed next to his hip, chest heaving as he scrambled back from the ledge he’d been so close to. He could hear Bucky’s harsh pants and groans in his ear and he slipped another finger in, despite not having permission. The burn took his mind off the gotta-come-wanna-come-gonna-come litany that filled it.

“God, kid, you’re fucking twisted. Depraved. And I fucking love it. Gonna do that, gonna do all that. Bet you look so pretty covered in come, marking you up like the slut you are. Put your hand back, fuck, Tony, I’m so goddamn close. Put it back and tell me when you’re ready. I’m gonna talk and I wanna come hearing you scream my name. Do it, Tony, now. Tell me when you’re close.”

His palm instantly gripped his cock again and he jerked it fast, thrusting his fingers roughly inside himself. 

“Done. Done, please, sir, please talk.”

“Good boy. Good little whore. God, I’m gonna make you my good lil’ boy, gonna stretch you out on my cock until nobody else can fuck you. Until you’re begging for me to come. Tony, I’m going to leave bite marks all over you, show anyone else who sees you that I’ve fucked you, marked you, and that you’re so stretched from my cock theirs isn’t going to do a thing for you. Want everything, kid. Shit I shouldn’t fucking want. Wanna watch you fuck yourself on a dildo with a cock ring on, begging me to come. Want you tied to the bed, ropes so tight they leave marks around your wrists, and jack off on you, make you lick my come off your lips. I want to plug you up, keep you slick and open for me so I can just bend you over whenever I fucking want and deep dick you hard. I want you to come on my cock, and just on it. Come just from the feel of me fucking you. Fuck, Tony, come. Let me hear you come.”

Tony thrust his fingers in hard and moved his hand so fast a cramp started up in his forearm, but he was going to do it. He could feel the rush building up quickly, almost spilling over. Almost there, almost there, almost-

“Ah! Fuck, Bucky!”

Tony wailed as his cock jerked and spilled hot come onto his abdomen and fingers, stroking himself through it and shaking so hard he thought he’d come out of his skin when he heard Bucky grit out his name through clenched teeth, coming almost immediately after Tony did.

There was an easy silence between them afterwards; Tony reaching into the same drawer to yank out a pack of baby wipes and clean himself off, the shuffling telling him Bucky was doing the same.

Tony waited for the spit and hiss of the zippo before he spoke up again.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome kid. Don’t forget what you said, don’t be an asshole tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Tony slid under the covers, reveling in the feeling of silk sheets against his bare, sweat-slick skin. 

“Can we do this again?”

“Insatiable little bastard, aren’t you?”

Tony grinned, clicking his fingers once more to send to room into darkness.

“For you.”

He heard Bucky swallow what he assumed was a mouthful of Jack and shivered in dull pleasure at the idea of tasting it from his tongue.

“Alright, yeah, maybe. If you’re a good boy and deserve it. But I’m not budging on the whole waiting until you’re legal thing.”

“I can dig that, especially if I can do this with you more.”

“Jesus, too much and you’ll send me into an early grave. You’re more dangerous than IED’s, punk.”

Tony worried at his lower lip at the reminder. In the heat of the moment, he'd forgotten exactly who this man was. Bucky wasn’t a spoiled rotten socialite with an internship at Daddy’s firm set up for him. He was an American soldier, who fought and gave sweat, tears, and blood to protect his country. There was a good shot if he left he wasn’t going to come back. Tony snarled at the ball of ice that formed at the idea, reminding himself harshly that he was just some stupid kid to Bucky. He wasn’t going to get a folded up flag or a pair of dog tags if Bucky died. He was just someone Bucky was going to fuck around with until someone better, someone older, came along.

“Yeah. Well I gotta go, gotta pack and whatnot.”

“What? Hey, no, don’t you get off the phone. What the hell was that?”

“What was what?”

“Don’t play stupid, kid. Your whole demeanor changed. Now you’re pissy again. What happened?”

“Am I just some random fuck to you?” Tony blurted out, brave in the cover the darkness and phone offered him. He heard Bucky sigh heavily and the shhh of skin against skin that meant he’d scrubbed a palm over his face. The moment stretched until Tony was just about ready to hang up before Bucky spoke again.

“No.”

“No? No what?”

“No you’re not some random fuck, kid. You’re an obnoxious, young, know-it-all, smart-mouthed asshole who needs to be put in his place and makes me want to cuff him upside the head half the time…but you’re not something random. I’m not gonna give you my class ring and ask you to go steady, but I’m also not gonna fuck anyone else until I figure out what the hell I’m gonna do with you.”

“Then I won’t either. I won’t fuck anyone else.”

Bucky grumbled something about the fact that he shouldn’t be fucking at all and Tony happily ignored it as his lids grew heavy, the idea of packing in the morning becoming more and more appealing.

“Tired?”

“Yeah,” Tony said around a yawn, hearing Bucky move around on the other end of the line.

“Then we’d best say goodnight kid, got an early ass morning tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait, Bucky!”

“What?”

“If I can’t have your class ring, can I wear your dog tags?”

“Shit, why don’t we just rent a billboard across from your dads office that says ‘Hey, your husband’s bff is getting your underage son off!’ Not a chance kid.”

“Aww, c’mon. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t love to fuck me while I’m wearing your tags, knowing they’re under my shirt when I walk around, know that I’ve got your claim on me wherever I go.”

Bucky groaned low and swore.

“Damnit, punk. We’ll fucking see.”

“And plus, you could pull them tight while you’re fucking me on my hands and knees, leave a mark around my throat for **days** -“

“ _Goodnight Tony_.”

“Goodnight Buck!” He happily chirped back at the man’s growl, hearing the phone instantly click off, signaling the end of the call. Tony yanked the ear piece out and tossed it onto the dresser where he’d carelessly thrown his phone. Turning, he burrowed deeper into the pillows and grinned into the fabric.

Whattya know…maybe being here until mom came and got him wouldn’t suck so bad after all.


	9. Bucky Barnes Should Destroy His Phone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and Tony have no respect for hangovers, Howard is an ass, Steve is a fierce bitch, and Bucky Barnes should destroy his phone; it gets him into far too much trouble.

Six a.m. the next morning found Steve standing in front of the stove, making a little more noise than was generally necessary to make sausage bits inside scrambled eggs and delighting in the twin groans from behind him every time he banged something down. He slid the mixture onto four plates, sprinkling cheese over the food and turning, two held in his grasp.

At the island, Bucky and Howard sat side by side, in the exact same pose. Both had their aviators on, their forehead dropped into one hand, hunched over with their other hand wrapped around cups of coffee they’d both re-filled twice. Howard had been so out of it this morning he hadn’t even mentioned the fact that Bucky’s glasses were a neon pink, though Steve wasn’t wholly sure that Bucky had opened his eyes wide enough that morning to know himself what color they were.

“I can’t believe you two are starting the vacation with hang-overs. Bucky, I understand you a little more; you haven’t drank in a while, though it still doesn’t excuse this. But Howard, you know your limits and you still drank way too much wine last night!” He snapped the plates down in front of them with loud clangs, smirking at the way they both clapped hands over their ears and groaned.

“Steve, baby, honey, love of my life, I will buy you your own art gallery if you please, _please_ stop screaming at me.”

He rolled his eyes at Howard’s low groan, taking the man’s cup and striding over to re-fill it once again.

“No. And I’m not screaming Howard; I’m talking at a completely reasonable volume for a normal morning. If you hadn’t drunk yourself stupid last night, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

“New tactic. Barnes. Hey, Barnes.”

Bucky grunted from where he’d buried his face inside the arms he’d crossed on the table.

“I’ll buy you a mansion if you kill Steve.”

“He keeps talking ‘n I’m gon’ do it for free.”

Steve glared at the two, setting Howard’s cup down with a clang and scoffing at the way the man’s hand instantly shot out to bring it to his lips. Something moved in his peripheral and he turned to greet Tony who’d just slid into the kitchen doorway, looking fresh and eager in an old Henley and khaki shorts. He stopped when he noticed the two men bent over the table and looked to Steve with an eyebrow raised, making a drinking motion with one hand. Steve nodded and crossed his arms across his chest, looking at the two with disappointment.

“Good morning guys! Who’s ready for vacation?! This kid is, yeah I am. Hey, Steve, morning pal! What’s for breakfast? Mmmm, smells delicious! Why aren’t you guys eating yours, it smells fantastic!”

Even Steve winced at the loud cheery voice that Tony spoke in, before laughing when Tony sat down across from the two and kept at it, poking at their crossed arms with his fork in between bites.

“Stark, I’mma kill your kid.”

Bucky’s growl from underneath his arms made Steve huff from where he was setting a cup of coffee down in front of Tony, smiling at the boy’s nod of thanks. Tony really did seem to be in a great mood today, maybe he was looking forward to this vacation after all.

“Go ‘head. I can have another.”

“ _Thanks_ Dad, love you too. Seriously, what the hell you guys? Eat, we’ve gotta be on the tarmac in an hour and a half.”

Howard lifted his head from the table and glared at the boy, eyebrows tugging low under his glasses.

“It’s _my_ jet, I don’t _have_ to be anywhere until I want to be. Now, Tony, be a good boy and let Daddy die.”

With those words, he collapsed back down onto the table. Steve could feel his ears heat at Howard’s mean words. Tony’d done nothing to deserve the snap and he was going to give Howard an earful once they were in private. He opened his mouth to say something to Tony, to distract him from the glare he was leveling at his dad’s hunched form, when Bucky’s hand reached out and snagged his empty cup, dangling it from two fingers hooked into the handle and bouncing it in Tony’s direction.

“Re-fill.”

“What am I, your waitress, Barnes? You need to get off your hung-over ass and get it yourself.”

But, despite his words, Tony grabbed Bucky’s cup and took it over to the massive pot Jarvis had brewed them when Steve had popped into the kitchen at 5 to let him know they were going to start packing then they’d be down. Bucky had shown up a half hour later, just as Steve had moved the last of the bags to outside the room so they could be stowed into the cars. He’d met Howard in the foyer, where Howard had been making a beeline for the smell of coffee, and the older man had simply waved a hand for Bucky to follow, probably sensing a kindred soul of misery.

Steve blinked at the way Bucky’s head came up to watch as Tony poured the cup full, even taking care to wipe up the little bit that spilled onto the counter. Bucky usually didn’t move more than he had to when he was hung-over, why in the world make the effort to watch Tony make his coffee? Did he think the boy was going to stick something in it? 

Though, Bucky _had_ been a bit off all morning, Steve had attributed it to the hangover but he made a mental note to double check that everything was okay when they had a moment alone.

“Okay,” Steve clapped his hands together, ignoring Bucky and Howard’s grunts and sliding into his seat next to Tony.

“So, I figure we should probably go over the game plan for the day. Howard, eat your food. Bucky, eat the eggs too, don’t just pick out the sausage. We’re going to get to the tarmac at 7:30 like Tony said, luckily for us it’s only a- Tony, how long of a drive? Ten minutes?”

“Fifteen.” The boy answered around a mouthful of food.

“Fifteen, thank you. So, we’ll leave here at about 7:05 just to make sure we give ourselves enough leeway. Then board the plane and arrive in Maui at 3:30 in the afternoon our time, which is…crap, I forget what time it’ll be there.”

Steve went fishing in his pocket for his phone to bring up the world clock when Howard and Tony’s voices filled the silence, voices that would have been identical if Howard wasn’t talking into the bottom of his coffee cup and Tony wasn’t speaking around a mouthful of eggs.

“9:30 in the morning.”

He brightened at the sounds, even more so at the fact that neither acknowledged that they’d spoken over the other, choosing to go back to their respective breakfasts. Steve scooted Howard’s almost untouched plate closer to him and surreptitiously moved the ketchup bottle Tony was using to drown his food a bit further away before continuing.

“Alright, so we’ll get there then, Howard, you said it’s about a thirty minute drive from the airport to the house so that will put us around 10:30, adding in a half hour for us to stretch post-flight and get everything situated in the cars. Now, cars, is there a rental agency there or what? I’m assuming you’ll want your own car Buck, and Howard and I will just share one. Um…Tony, can you drive yet?”

Tony looked over at him, wiping off a smear of ketchup from his lip before smirking and reaching over to poke Howard with the clean handle of his fork.

“He really doesn’t get the whole ‘you’re rich, bitch!’ thing, does he?”

Howard cast the boy a shrewd glare but didn’t comment on the language, turning to face Steve and swallowing the food in his mouth before replying.

“Sweetheart, we’re just going to take our cars. The StarkJet is capable of transporting three full sized trucks in its undercarrier. You can take your bike, if you’d like, I had the men lay out all your riding gear in case you chose to. And Tony’s been able to drive since he was thirteen, but he wasn’t actually legal to drive a car since this year.”

“Which reminds me, pops, you missed my super sweet sixteen. Can I have a car?”

“Sure. You can get one here or you can go look once we get to Maui,” Howard said with a shrug as Bucky’s head came up off the table and he looked at Steve in disbelief over the rim of his glasses. 

Steve shrugged helplessly in response, it’d taken him a while to get used to luxury and he still was thrown by the fact that Howard was so blasé about something most parents saved and scrimped for months over.

“Hey, you two could go buy one together! It’d be a neat experience for you two!”

Howard and Tony shot him matching pained looks at his enthusiasm, neither commenting on it, choosing to avoid eye-contact with one another instead. Steve sighed but then straightened his shoulders. They were going to bond with one another on this vacation if it killed him.

“So what’s the plan for the rest of the week? We just gonna hang out at the cabana and sip Mai Tai’s?”

Bucky swallowed the last dregs of his coffee after he spoke, setting the cup down and finally, after 4 cups and an entire plate of food, looking a bit less like he was going to murder the first person that talked to him.

“Cabana?” Tony scoffed, spinning his fork absently in his fingers. “You’re kidding, right? The beach house has five bedrooms equipped with en suite baths, a massive pool, a sunroom, movie class entertainment room, and the jungle room.”

Bucky quirked a brow at him in response, a line of tension running through his shoulders as he leaned forward against the table, so faint if Steve hadn’t been his friend since they were five he wouldn’t have been able to see it.

“What’s a jungle room?”

Tony looked panicked for one moment, like he hadn’t meant for that to slip out and now that it was being called into question was terrified he’d actually have to answer. To Steve’s surprise, however, Howard intervened, pulling Bucky’s attention away from the boy and onto himself.

“It’s called a solarium, Tony’s called it the jungle room since he was a kid. It’s an all glass offshoot of the main house with a grotto, fully-stocked bar, and a massive hanging bed with a canopy draped around it. It’s packed with exotic and native plants, hence the name jungle room.”

Bucky grinned over the table at Tony, who was staring down at his plate, the barest hints of red on his ears. It was obvious Tony hadn’t meant to call it what he did, something left over from his childhood, and Steve knew Bucky was enough of an ass to not know when to leave something alone. Thinking quickly, he reached out and ran quick, dexterous fingers over Howard’s forearm, trailing them over his watch as he spoke.

“Hmmm, hanging bed, huh? Sounds like you and I are gonna need to check that out right away.”

It had the effect Steve was shooting for, Bucky rearing back to clap hands over his ears and moan about how he changed his mind, he wasn’t going with them anymore, he’d stay here and rot, fuckyouverymuch. Of course it also had the effect of Howard licking his lips and grinning at Steve while Tony protested and told them they weren’t allowed to turn his childhood playroom into a den of iniquity, damnit.

Steve stood from his seat and wiggled his fingers at the three, smiling at Howard’s wink as he went to check that everything had been loaded up and double check they really had laid everything out that they needed to for his bike. The idea of cruising on it in a foreign city was incredibly exciting and Steve couldn’t wait to throw himself on it, maybe finally convince Howard to get on behind him, and go once they arrived. He made sure that everything was secure before giving the men the go-ahead to take it to the Jet, waving merrily as they rolled his baby out of the garage and into the bright sunlight.

Once he’d done all that, including chasing down Jarvis and making sure the man was actually going to relax while they were gone, and calling Marta to let her know they were leaving soon and that he’d call her once they arrived to let her know they’d gotten there safely, he made his way back to the foyer. As he got closer and closer the chatter he heard got louder and louder, and his feet quickened in response until he was almost jogging towards what sounded like Tony and Howard’s voice overlapping and echoing. 

He burst into the foyer, expecting to see the two going at it, to instead see Bucky watching with fascination as Howard and Tony stood a couple of feet apart, the holo-projections Howard used to help with everything from figuring out where he’d left his keys to ordering dinner reservations pulled up in front of them. Their hands were moving quickly, discarding shapes and piecing things together, taunts and jeers being thrown back and forth like they were kids at a baseball game.

Steve strode over to stand near his best friend, whose eyes were still shining as they watched Howard and Tony race to put together what looked like-

“Howard, is that an engine?”

“Internal combustion engine, sweetheart. The kid thinks he can assemble and disassemble faster than me, and I told him maybe in ten years he’ll be quicker than me.”

With those words and a shove of his hand, Howard sent his completed engine into a slow spin, a pop-up of statistics next to it showing it was put together 100% correctly. Tony shoved the last two pieces into place on his and crossed his arms as the statistics showed he’d done his correctly as well, but completed it 3.58 seconds later than Howard had. 

The look on his face was that of a child who’d tried so hard but got shoved down at the very last second, bitter disappointment and frustration with himself. Steve walked over to nudge Howard under the guise of looking at the engine and threw a nod in Tony’s direction, shooting Howard a meaningful look.

Howard cleared his throat awkwardly before walking through the projection over to Tony’s, spinning it as well while Tony looked on with a suspicious glint to his eyes.

“It’s good, kid,” Howard finally said roughly, patting the bottom to make it float upwards and disappear like Steve had done to the one he’d been observing.

“Assembly just isn’t rote to you yet. I was sixteen before I learned it, so you’re not that far behind me. A little more focus and you could be just as good.”

Steve resisted the urge to groan as the slight hope that had entered Tony’s eyes at the compliment vanished under Howard’s next words. He huffed and turned to stride outside, calling over his shoulder that he was ready to go and that they were wasting time.

Bucky chuckled into his travel cup of coffee and followed the boy, while Howard turned to look at Steve with a confused expression. He couldn’t even be mad at the man, not when it was plainly obvious Howard had no idea that he’d actually done anything wrong.

“Howard, next time you have a compliment followed by criticism, just say the compliment and then shut your trap, okay?”

“I didn’t…It wasn’t supposed to make him…damnit, Steve, I didn’t have a girl! He should be able to take a little bit of constructive criticism.”

Steve planted his hands on his hips and glared at his lover, ignoring the ‘oooo’ Bucky called out from where he could see them through the open front doors. He didn’t feel bad laying into Howard because he knew they couldn’t hear them, only see them.

“I want you to think about what you just said, and realize how hard Marta would hit you, for one. And for two, Howard, it’s harder to accept the criticism when it’s all you hear, all the time.”

Howard opened his mouth to respond but Steve held up a hand, stomping out after the two that had already left. He may not have been mad that Howard had criticized the boy, but he certainly was mad that Howard had said that Tony, of all people, needed to learn to accept criticism. This from the man who’d raised him on it and little else!

He was beginning to see why Tony threw wine glasses.

“Where’s the fire, buttercup?”

“Get in the damn car, Bucky. Let’s just go.”

Bucky looked taken aback at Steve’s snarl, shooting Howard, who was coming out of the house hot on his heels, a glare.

“What the _hell_ did you do, Stark?!”

“I didn’t do a goddamn thing, Barnes. Steve, get **out** of that car.”

“ **No**!” Steve opened the door and leaned out, nailing Howard with a venomous glare.

“Ride to the tarmac with your son. Leave me the hell alone.”

With that, he slammed the door shut and crossed his arms, locking eyes on the dashboard in front of him and studiously ignoring the ever growing shouts from outside. They cut off suddenly and Bucky ripped the door open, throwing himself into the driver’s seat and viciously starting the car, the engine roaring under the sudden action. He shoved it into drive and hit the gas, tearing out of the driveway and onto the main road, white-knuckling the steering wheel and gritting his teeth.

They got about a mile down the road before Steve finally gave into temptation and glanced behind him to see Howard and Tony were following, both of them talking and moving their arms expressively in the sunlight that poured into the convertible, though Tony’s motions were less combative and more…soothing?

“What the hell, Steve?”

He twisted and dropped back into his seat, staring at Bucky who was glancing at him every so often. Buck’s face was still flushed with anger, but his grip had loosened slightly, and his shoulder’s weren’t a steel rod of tension any longer. He sighed and let his head fall back against the headrest with a thump, picking at a loose thread in his shorts.

“Howard’s an ass.”

“Well, yeah, I tried to tell you that, and you fucking married him anyways. What’d he do?”

“He just,” Steve carded a hand through his hair in frustration, “Howard comes down so hard on Tony, and Tony’s just trying to be noticed, y’know?”

Bucky shrugged, a tight roll of his shoulders, and there was an odd note in his voice when he spoke.

“Kid’s not too innocent, sounds like he provokes some of it.”

“Yeah, some of it, but Howard takes the bait every single time. I just wish he’d try a little harder to actually bond with his son, Buck.”

In the silence that followed, Bucky’s phone dinged and he fished it from his pocket, handing it to Steve without taking his eyes off the road.

“Read me my adoring fan mail.”

Steve rolled his eyes at the old habit and glanced down at the screen. Ever since they’d seen the “It Can Wait” PSA about texting and driving in high school, and really, their teacher didn’t HAVE to pick the most gruesome car accidents photos he could find to show along with it, Bucky refused to text while he was driving, either not responding or just calling the person.

Steve expected it to be Dum Dum or maybe Falsworth that had texted, but instead Tony’s name was written under the little envelope icon and Steve snuck a quick glance at Bucky, whose eyes were still glued to the road. He knew he shouldn’t just open it, even if Bucky said it was okay it was an invasion of Tony’s privacy, but he was curious. Maybe it’d give him some insight on to what Howard and Tony were talking about back there.

With a silent apology to his mother for snooping, he clicked open the message and felt ice drop into his stomach at the words.

_God, ur lucky u made me cum so hard. Really hard to not just snap at the ass rite now._

He fumbled with the phone and it dropped onto the floorboards with a loud sound. Bucky whipped his head around and when Steve met his best friend’s stare, there was a look of horror that crossed Bucky’s face before it went blank. In that moment, Steve knew he was fully aware of who had just texted him, and the topic of what he’d just read. Bucky’s eyes shifted back to the road, flat and dull, his whole body a vibrating mass of tension, knuckles clenching tight and releasing before he spoke quietly.

“I didn’t fuck him.”

Oh God, the last time he’d heard Buck sound so lifeless he’d been telling Steve about his dad and his uncle. He reached out and laid a palm on Bucky’s knee, one hand dropping from the wheel to clutch it almost desperately.

“No, Buck, I know you wouldn’t. I know how you feel about underage kids. But…I guess…I don’t understand?”

The grip tightened and he exhaled in one long sound.

“I just…I was drinking, half-way to smashed already. And he called bitching and moaning and brought up the sex and I told him no, so…he compromised. Phone sex.”

Steve nodded and rubbed a thumb over Bucky’s knuckles soothingly. He wasn’t angry with either of them, in fact the idea of Bucky having to chase around Tony’s hyperactive teenage self was actually rather cute and amusing. But Bucky obviously wasn’t happy about what had happened, and that was what Steve had a problem with.

“You don’t sound happy. Was it that bad?”

“Course not. Kid’s a hell of a talker, I came harder than I have in about five years. That’s not the point Steve, point is he’s a kid and I shouldn’t have done it. I don’t give a shit that he’s some college graduate, he’s only been on this Earth for sixteen years and I shoulda hung up the damn phone the minute he suggested it, not whacked off listening to a punk kid with a filthy mouth. And I certainly shouldn’t have told him we were exclusive, at least on my end.”

Steve blushed at the crude wording, before trudging on. There was something Bucky still wasn’t telling him, he could read it in the way his thigh kept flexing under their hands and the way he absently thumbed Steve’s wedding ring around and around.

“Then why did you?”

“I…shit, I dunno, buddy. I was lonely as hell and it’s not like my ass can just go to whatever dive is closest and get a girl.”

“Why not?”

Bucky had never had trouble picking up women before; in fact, he usually would manage to pick up both a girl for him and a guy for Steve in the same night.

“What if a fight breaks out? What if some guy takes a swing at me and suddenly I’m back in that fucking desert with people who’re out to kill me? What if I hurt someone, Stevie?”

The broken sob in Bucky’s voice made Steve look over in alarm and he cried out softly when he saw the tears slicking their way down Bucky’s cheeks.

“Oh, Bucky! Pull over. Right now.”

He braced himself as Bucky complied, slowing to a stop at the side of the road. He quickly climbed out and made it around the car; passing Bucky who’d tore out his door and already had a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth as he stalked toward the tree line on Steve’s side. 

Howard and Tony were idling next to the car, both wearing matching expressions of concern, though Howard’s eyes lingered on Steve and Tony’s on Bucky. Steve strode around to the driver’s side, stacking his arms on the side and leaning down towards Howard. It didn’t matter that they’d been fighting only moments ago, what mattered now was that he help out Bucky.

Howard looked up at him, his whole face an expression of concern and Steve felt an abrupt over-whelming rush of love for his husband. The man he’d been yelling at mere minutes ago had forgiven the whole thing already and looked ready to kill if Steve required it of him. He cupped his lover’s face in his hands and pulled him into a deep kiss, whimpering as Howard slid a hand to the back of his neck. He drew back and propped their foreheads together, glancing over momentarily to see Tony had his phone clenched in his hand and was staring at Bucky. He’d probably texted the man wondering what in the world was going on.

“Hey, you and Tony go on ahead, alright? We’ll meet you there in a couple of minutes.”

“Is everything alright, darling boy?”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at the endearment. It meant I’m sorry and I forgive you all in the same moment and he pressed another light kiss to the older man’s lips.

“Everything’s fine baby, Bucky just wanted to talk about something real fast in private.”

Howard nodded and with one last kiss, drove off. Steve marveled for a moment that Howard Stark, who all the gossip mags painted as the paranoid bastard, would simply accept something so vague. He let the smile linger from the warmth that spread through him at the knowledge he was trusted and strode towards where Bucky was leaning against the passenger side of the car, smoke curling around his body as he took deep drags.

He crossed around the car to the other man and plucked the almost new cigarette from the man’s hands, taking his own drag as Bucky shook another free and lit it. He frowned at the taste, then chuckled inwardly when he realized the reason it was so odd was because he’d gotten so used to sneaking puffs off Howard’s cigar’s. Steve copied Bucky’s pose, leaning his shoulder into the other man’s and let the silence fall between them. Bucky was the last person you wanted to push for information; he’d clam up tighter than a bear-trap at the first sign of digging.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, y’know?”

“The war?”

“Yeah. I did shit, saw shit, had shit done to me that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. But I come back here and everyone’s tells me to be happy, that I’m home and I’m safe. And I’m not. This isn’t the home that I left, and I’m not safe from the nightmares. Even old Jack can’t drown those, and believe me he’s made some strong efforts.”

Steve nodded, content to smoke along as Bucky talked. He’d know when he needed to interject, now wasn’t the time.

“So there I am, half into this bottle of Jack, and I open my mouth to try to tell Tony to stay away from that creepy Obi fuck. And it spirals. And I told him about my dad and my uncle and he didn’t linger on it, thank fucking god, but he wouldn’t let up on the sex thing. I was stupid and I was weak, but for one phone conversation I meant the entire world to someone. It was an adrenaline rush, knowing that I held so much power. I want more of it, want it more often.”

“You mean the world to me, Buck.”

“Ah, shit, bud, I know I do. But you don’t need me to be your world. You’ve got Howard now; you don’t need me to fight off your bullies any longer. I’m unattached, and I’m half-way in the wind all the damn time.”

“But Tony needs you.”

“Needs someone. For right now, let the kid think it’s me he needs. When he grows up a little he’ll know different. But for right now, Steve, that cocky little bastard is the only solid damn foot hole I’ve got in this world.”

Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, pulling the other man into a tight hug. If he’d have known how Bucky was feeling- Ah, but then what difference would it have made? Bucky didn’t need a best friend anymore; he needed a lover, someone to hold him through those nightmares and replace the Jack with kisses and touches that hold more love than lust. Maybe Tony wasn’t the right person for the job, but then again maybe he was. Either way, it would only be time that could tell them what they wanted to know.

“Look, Buck, I can’t speak for Howard, but as far as I go? You and Tony are good together. He gives you a foothold and you give him an anchor. So if you’re going to pursue this with him….well, just know that I won’t stop you.”

Bucky chuckled into his shoulder, arms coming up to squeeze him hard once, locking them together from head to toe, before stepping back and taking a slow drag. He regarded Steve through the haze, smiling in a cocky curl of his lips. Steve let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, flicking the ashes off the end of his cigarette absently. Bucky looked like Bucky again, eyes dry, mouth curled into a smirk, hip cocked, and ready to take on the world.

“Stark’s gonna pitch a bitch when Tony turns legal, you know that right?”

“And I’ll tell him not to be a hypocrite, and that Tony deserves to be happy.”

“And you’re gonna have to keep this from him until then, Stevie. Don’t want my pretty ass in jail.”

“You can’t arrest someone for phone sex with a consenting minor, Bucky. But I’ll let you two tell him on your own time.”

“Pretty sure Stark could get my ass arrested for breathing wrong in Tony’s direction if he wanted to. Seems like he could go all Poppa Bear on someone’s ass in a second if he needed to.”

Bucky wasn’t wrong, Steve mused, remembering back when he’d been shanghaied into almost signing a pre-nuptial agreement before Howard had burst in the door and stopped him. He hadn’t had any issue with signing it, had agreed completely with the need for it and hadn’t even read it through before reaching for the pen one of the men held out to him. Like he’d told Howard, after the third time Howard had shown up for their date with an extravagant gift, he wasn’t dating him for his money.

He was dating him for the fucking _awesome_ sex.

Oh, and Howard’s stunning personality, of course.

~~…..But no, seriously, mostly the sex.~~

Howard had explicitly told them, in no certain terms, that he not going to make Steve sign a pre-nup because he _trusted_ Steve. He knew Steve wouldn’t screw him over in the divorce.

That night, Steve had rode Howard in his chair in the cigar room, murmuring how much he loved him while Howard stroked up and down his sides, returning every phrase, swearing on everything he had he’d destroy anything that hurt him.

“You’re not wrong,” Steve muttered under his breath, taking one last hit before tossing the cigarette onto the ground and crushing it under his shoe. He climbed into the car, picking up Bucky’s phone from where he’d dropped it and thumbing the screen so it lit up. By the time Bucky moved around and slid into his seat, Steve was damn near in tears from laughing so hard.

“What’s so funny, jerk?” Bucky growled, starting the car and pulling out onto the road once again.

Steve flashed him the screen, which showed 8 texts, all of them from Tony. Bucky groaned and hit his head against the headrest, hard.

“I changed my mind; I don’t need a foot hold. I’ll be fine. This kid’s gonna kill me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, no smut :( But next chapter; you've heard of the mile high club, yes? :D  
> I hope this gave everyone a little background into Bucky's mentality on the whole him/Tony thing as well as properly showed that Tony can play nice, and it's not him that starts every fight.  
> As always, I hope you guys enjoy!


	10. Arrival at Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard Stark is (not really) a shitty father, and Bucky Barnes has things that he would like to go on record. Also, Steve is not turned on by Bucky, and Tony is, as always, an unrepentant slut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm....so sorry. But hey, Bucky POV!

Hours later, Howard came into consciousness slowly, like surfacing from a perfect dive. He was aware of a comfortable warmth surrounding him, not too hot nor cold.

He was also aware of the tight, powerful body that lay wrapped around him rocking an impressive erection into his hip.

He stretched, stuttering the roll of Steve’s hips before he settled again and began moving. Howard looked over to see Steve was still asleep, looking even younger with the lines of daily stress and worries relaxed in slumber. He grinned, and gently maneuvered them so that Steve lay flat on his back, still moving against the sheets in waves. As he scooted down the length of his young lover’s body, he mentally congratulated himself. Convincing Steve to leave the other two alone while they took a nap had taken all of their loading and take-off, but he finally gave in after Barnes and Tony had started bickering, the older man too hung-over to deal with Tony’s loud presence.

Unbuttoning Steve’s worn khaki shorts, he gently eased them off the man’s hips, looking up every inch or so to make sure he hadn’t woken him. Steve, amazingly, stayed asleep as Howard worked both his shorts and underwear off and Howard felt a twinge of guilt once he settled back between Steve’s bare legs. Maybe he should just go, and let Steve sleep as long as he pleased. The boy was obviously exhausted, if he’d stayed asleep this long.

But Steve was still rock-hard, and his abs were tightening rhythmically as he curled his hips minutely up and down.

He reached up and grasped the base of Steve’s cock tightly, smiling broadly at the way Steve, still completely unconscious, murmured his name and shifted into the grip. Bracing his weight on his forearm, he leaned up and took Steve into his mouth, twirling his tongue lightly over the sensitive head. Howard began to work his way down Steve’s thick cock, taking in inch after inch until Steve’s sudden gasp and buck told him he’d finally woken his lover. He pulled off with a grin and looked at the boy, whose eyes were wide and looking down at him with an astonished expression.

“H-Howie?” He stuttered out, and Howard gave a lazy pump of his wrist in response.

“Consider this my apology for being an over-bearing bastard earlier.” Howard murmured before sucking Steve back down, pushing his tongue hard against the thick vein on the underside. Steve’s hands landed in his hair, holding and gently massaging, in contrast to the hard hold he’d had last night. He’d just gotten Steve to the point where he’d shaken off all the vestiges of sleep and was bucking and gasping with every hard suck, when what sounded like cannonballs began hitting the door to the bedroom.

“Hey, lover-boys, pilot says we’re landing here soon. Get’chur asses out here.” Bucky shouted through the door, and Howard groaned, dropping his forehead onto Steve’s thigh. He blinked in surprise as he felt Steve soften in his hand, and looked up with wide eyes. Steve flushed and sat up, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“No faster way to lose an erection than to hear your best friend’s voice.”

Howard chuckled and dropped a kiss on the flesh under him, snagging Steve’s discarded clothes and passing them to the boy before climbing out from under the covers.

“At least I don’t have to worry about any past drunken fumblings coming to light between you two.” Howard said and Steve snorted, buttoning his pants and reaching for his shoes.

“Please. Bucky isn’t my type.”

“Oh yeah? And what is?”

Steve grinned impishly as he passed Howard on his way out, stopping for only a moment to whisper in his ear before darting away.

“Billionaires with big cocks.”

He chuckled and followed after the boy, sitting down across from Bucky and Tony and strapping in just as the fasten seatbelts sign came on. The Bucky was scrolling idly on his phone while Tony chatted with Steve about everything there was to do at the beach house. For a moment, Howard felt an over-whelming sense of peace. This…this ragtag group of people he’d cobbled together and tied to himself, was his family. For better or worse, he was stuck with them for the rest of his life.

The thought wasn’t as grating as it would have been a year ago.

He felt the plane start to descend and saw both Steve and Bucky absently start to work their jaws, popping their ears. Tony, however, was trying valiantly but kept wincing with every mile they dropped. In an attempt to fend off any bitchiness from Tony having an earache, Howard reached into a side compartment and fished out a pack of gum, tossing it to the boy. He took it without looking at Howard, popping a few pieces into his mouth and chewing furiously, the pain vanishing from his face within moments.

Steve shot him a blinding grin, which Howard dutifully ignored, tapping on the table to bring up the weather and other news on the area. Barnes looked over at him and then down at the table in front of himself, putting his phone down with a frown. He elbowed Tony who turned and, once he caught sight of Howard, tapped a few times to bring up a browser for him as well. Barnes grinned like a kid at Christmas and began tapping furiously, while Tony turned back to the window.

Finally they felt the jerk as the plane landed and began to taxi down the runway to where they could get off. As the roar of the engines died down, Howard opened his mouth to ask Steve what he wanted to eat for lunch once they got settled, but was interrupted by a low moan that emanated from the speakers to his right. All eyes turned to Barnes, who looked up and hit a few buttons, leaning back with an unrepentant grin. Howard felt a twitch start up below his left eye as he realized what had been going on.

“Barnes, were you watching porn on my jet?!”

“Yes.” Bucky answered simply, tucking his phone into his pocket and leaning over to see out the window. He unknowingly, or uncaringly as this was Barnes, smashed Tony between him and the plane wall and Howard braced himself for the boys hollering and swinging fists. To his surprise, Tony merely grunted and leaned forward so that Barnes was sprawled over his back, still chewing on his gum.

Howard frowned and made a mental note to have Tony check in with the doctors nearby, to make sure nothing had happened to his ears. 

He didn’t care, he just didn’t want to hear Tony bitch the whole vacation once pain set in.

Yeah. That was it.

He shook off the inner voice that sounded suspiciously like Steve and stood the moment the lights went off, striding towards the exit. He’d done very good on the flight, not fought with Tony or Barnes, and even managed to keep off his phone for anything other than answering Obi’s texts about how it was going. But even Howard knew not to push his luck, and the moment the door was pulled open, he slid on his aviators and trotted down the stairs. 

He stopped a few feet away from the bottom of the stairs and turned, watching the other three amble down to join him. Howard ignored the obnoxious pink color of Barnes’ glasses and held out a hand as the man shook a cigarette from his pack. Barnes obligingly shook out another and handed it over, lighting his own and holding the Zippo out to Howard. Once he had his lit, Barnes smirked and tucked the lot back inside the side pocket of his cargos.

“Thought you liked wrapping your lips around bigger things, Stark.”

Howard opened his mouth to reply when Tony stopped next to Barnes and mimicked his earlier gesture, holding out a palm expectantly. He was about to light Tony up for even suggesting it when Barnes looked from the boy’s hand to his face.

“Low five, alright!” He shouted and brought his hand down sharply onto top of Tony’s, knocking to back down to the kid’s side. Tony narrowed his eyes and glared at the man but Barnes merely turned to watch them pull the cars out, uncaring of the teen drilling holes in his back.

After they had them out, their luggage taken away to be dropped at the house and put away, and Steve had sent someone off with his bike, they all moved over to the cars.

Steve shot him an uneasy look, glancing at where he and Howard had instinctively moved to the side his car while Tony had migrated to stand next to Barnes’. He arched a brow at the look. Why in the hell did Steve think he’d care if they stuck Barnes with Tony and got a few minutes of blissful silence on the way there? Howard shrugged and went to open Steve’s door, ushering his husband inside and closing it before turning to speak to Barnes.

“Follow us and try not to throw the kid outta the car.”

Barnes nodded sharply, and went to get into his own, Tony bouncing around to the passenger side like a puppy. Howard wondered idly why in the world the boy had been so well behaved today and shrugged the thought away; blaming it on the fact that he barely slept at MIT and Tony had probably gotten his first good night’s rest in three years the last couple of nights. He slid in next to Steve, grinning at the man who’d fished his own wraparounds out of the glove compartment and was fiddling with the radio, no doubt trying to find the oldies station. He leaned over to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead, jolting when Barnes laid on his horn and then laughing at the finger Steve shot him.

This was turning out to be an alright vacation anyways.

***************************************

This vacation was going to be shit, Bucky thought bitterly as he followed Stark’s flashy car through the streets of Hawaii. Oh, it was going to be fun as hell and he had absolutely no problem conning Stark into throwing money around so he and Steve could have the vacation they always dreamed about. But he was still going to be in proximity, close proximity actually, to Tony.

Who was doing his damnedest to get his hand on Bucky’s cock.

He brought his hand down on the kid’s knuckles for the third time in ten minutes and stuck a finger in the kid’s face, glancing between Tony and the road.

“If I have to smack your hand one more **goddamn** time, kid, I’m gonna send you through this windshield, hear me?”

Tony huffed and threw himself back in the seat, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.

And….seriously? **How** was this kid a college graduate?

“You’ve got tinted windows and we have at least another twenty minutes before we get to the house. What’s the harm in a roadjob?”

“What’s the—“ Bucky could hardly believe this little shit and he slammed his palm down on the steering wheel in frustration. “Did we not just have the ‘not until you’re fucking legal’ conversation, punk? Keep your hands, and everything else, away from my cock until you blow out those candles.”

Tony groaned theatrically and ran slow hands down the front of his shirt, ending at his groin and cupping himself through the material.

“But _Buuucccky_ , I’m so horny.” He whined, grinding his palm down and Bucky tightened his grip on the wheel, resolutely ignoring the teen writhing in the seat next to him. After a few moments, Tony huffed again and started to un-button his shorts. 

Bucky would like it to go on record that he’s normally a very good driver, and to be fair, pedestrian’s take the chance when they step off the curb.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He hissed at Tony, glancing up to where Stark and Steve were chatting while they waited for the light to turn green. 

The boy shrugged and toyed with his waistband, licking his lips and staring at Buck with hooded eyes.

“You look fucking hot in that outfit. I’ve got time; why not take advantage of the show?”

Bucky would also like it to go on record that he’s not a very violent person, war notwithstanding, and so reaching over to clap a hand against the back of Tony’s head is not normal behavior.

Tony yelped and brought his hands up to cover where Bucky’s palm had landed; looking for all the world like Bucky had just told him he’d shot his dog. Bucky ignored him once again, eyes back on the road as Stark took a turn that led them down a road lined with palm trees, further away from the city. Tony was buttoning his pants back up and now had an elbow propped on the windowsill, glancing moodily out at the passing scenery. The image hit Bucky as proof of just how young Tony actually was, and for a moment he felt sick to his stomach, remembering large hands and the stench of vodka on hot breath. 

He must’ve made a small sound because Tony whipped around and blinked at him, cautiously reaching a hand out to lay it against Bucky’s bare forearm, fingers resting lightly like he was scared he’d get whacked again. He felt bad when he saw the slight red staining Tony’s knuckles where his slap had landed and, cursing his own damn weakness, took one hand off the wheel to tangle their fingers together, dropping them down to rest on the center console.

Tony beamed and practically wriggled in his seat, tightening his grip like Bucky was going to pull away. It yanked painfully inside Bucky’s chest, that this kid was already so attached to some fucked up veteran like him. But he’d warned him and warned him and Tony hadn’t listened. It would just be up to Bucky to make sure they didn’t get too close, not close enough for it to hurt Tony when it all shattered at their feet, like anything Bucky tried to do well did. 

He had to chuckle at the boys enthusiasm, though, and looked over at him.

“You act like it’s the first time someone’s ever held your hand, kid.”

“It is. Not much call for hand-holding when the only people you spend time with just wanna quick blow or bang.” Tony said nonchalantly and Bucky ground his teeth at the thought of Tony, young and scared and surrounding by elders, people who should have thought about that fact that the kid was in college, and probably still had Batman pajamas. It enraged him beyond belief and he blew out a long breath, turning a little too quickly to follow Stark onto another more secluded road.

“Shoulda told ‘em no, punk. Shoulda waited.”

“Yeah, because my husband will be so disappointed that I won’t be able to wear white to the wedding. You probably didn’t wait, when was the first time you had sex…er….con..sen..sually?” Bucky grinned at the way the kid drew out the last word, before outright laughing at the horrified look on his face. 

“Relax kid, I’m not gonna go into convulsions because you brought it up. It’s something that happened, just like me going to war or your parents getting divorced. Past shit that you shouldn’t have long ass conversations about, but you can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

Tony nodded like he understood completely, but the tight grip on Bucky’s fingers told him he really wasn’t sure he hadn’t crossed a line. He impulsively ran a thumb over the kid’s knuckles, and cursed himself when Tony relaxed instantly.

Oh yeah, this little boy was fucking deadly. And if Bucky didn’t watch his ass, Tony’d wind up wrecking him.

“So?”

“Soooo?”

“Bastard. When did you first have sex?”

Bucky thought back, running through the random fuck’s he’d had over the years and landing on the very first one, grinning at the memory. Man, he’d been so damn proud, he’d rushed over to Steve’s to tell him, ignoring the way his friend had tried to protest and bury his head under his pillows.

Maybe he did deserve it when Steve tried to make out with Stark in front of him.

“I was 16, kid, and so was she. Camille Johnson, head cheerleader. Out in the parking lot during the Sadie Hawkins dance. She wore this tight little red dress, woo…fucking filled it out nice too.”

He blinked at the rush of air from beside him and glanced over to see Tony’s thunderous expression, eyes glinting with jealousy. Bucky untangled their fingers to bop the kid on the nose, Tony’s eyes crossing and the look disappearing for the moment.

“But that was ten years ago, and last I heard she’s married with two kids. So get that green off your face, kiddo.”

Tony crossed his arms and leaned back into his seat, grinning over at him arrogantly as they pulled to a stop in front of a truly massive house, Steve and Stark climbing out of their car already.

“Doesn’t matter anyways. Once you fuck my ass until I’m screaming and make me yours, everyone else is gonna seem like a distant, shitty memory.”

Bucky Barnes would _also_ like it to go on record that he _totally_ saw Stark in front of the car and if he didn’t want to almost get hit then his ass shouldn’t have gotten so close to a moving vehicle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knowwwww! There's no porn! And I'm so sorry *hangs head* I tried and they were like....no. And it kept coming out all forced and awkward and aajhdgskjfsd. So enjoy this chapter of split POV, and I promise, porn tomorrow.


	11. This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve plays a game, Howard Stark is actually not a bad dad, Bucky Barnes should've been a marathon runner, and Tony is still just a broken, insecure kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: For...ahm...hell, I'm so bad at this...prostitution play? Definite cum play. If it squicks you, it can be easily skipped, (I don't put plot in my porn :D).

Later, once they had thoroughly gorged themselves at lunch and dinner and explored the house, Steve left Bucky and Tony relaxing by the fire pit and strode into the house to find Howard, who’d disappeared a while ago to wash off the chlorine from their dip into the pool. As he padded through the house in bare feet, the cool hardwood feeling good on the soles he’d warmed by the flames, he thought back to the fun they’d all had swimming around in a pool that was bigger than Howard’s massive one at home.

He wanted to sketch out the expression on Tony’s face when he’d seen the intricate tattoo on Bucky’s left arm after the man had stripped off his shirt, the strong lines and clean angles making it appear as though the limb was made of machinery from the elbow to the shoulder, separating around the star high on his bicep. It was Bucky’s memento from the army, an allusion to him being the ‘star’ shooter in the ‘war machine’ that was the armed forces. 

Steve didn’t particularly care for tattoos but hey, at least Bucky had let Steve design his rather than risk it to Joe Nobody on the streets.

The truly amazing part of the evening had been watching Howard haul himself out of the water to join Bucky for a cigarette. His body had been dripping, the drops of water clinging to lithe muscles until the last moment, as if even they couldn’t resist him. Steve had only gotten a moment to drool, however, because Tony was a smart, opportunistic little shit and had sent a wave of water splashing up into his dumbstruck expression.

Steve swung into the doorway of their room and caught sight of Howard standing on the balcony that overlooked the pool and fire pit, staring down below with his arms crossed, a squat glass on the ledge next to him. He smiled at the familiar sight and strode towards his lover. Howard had actually slowed down on his drinking after he’d met Steve, but it wasn’t unusual for him to still absently sip from a glass when he had things on his mind.

He stopped behind Howard and slipped his arms around his waist, dropping a kiss on the man’s temple. Howard turned his head toward him and smiled absently before looking back down at where Bucky was lounging back in his chair while Tony waved his arms around, no doubt telling some wild story.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Tony was…unusually well behaved today. I’m hoping nothing happened with Maria and now he’s scrambling to make sure I don’t—hell, I don’t know—kick him out on his ass or something.” Howard said, turning in Steve’s arms and running his fingers through his hair. 

Steve grinned at his lover’s frustrations and bumped their noses together playfully. It worked to his advantage that Howard needed his mind cleared, what he had planned for the older man would certainly do just that.

“I’m sure it’s just because of the excitement of the day. Watch, tomorrow he’ll be screaming that he’s leaving and tossing glasses again.”

Howard grunted and picked up his glass, taking a small sip before catching Steve’s look and tilting it towards him.

“Want some?”

Steve shook his head and plucked the tumbler from his hands, placing it back on the balcony before leaning in.

“Rather get a taste another way.” He mumbled before pressing their lips together, delighting in the way Howard opened easily for him, accepting the slick thrust of his tongue. Steve let the kiss carry on for a while, enjoying the dark tang on his lover’s tongue, before he pulled back, moving his hands to cup Howard’s hips.

“So, I’m not up here just to idly chat with you.”

Howard’s expression shuttered at Steve’s words and he cautiously nodded, running gentle hands up Steve’s forearms. Steve almost laughed at the sight, internally shaking his head at how guarded Howard still was, as if he expected at any moment for Steve to turn and tell him it’d all been a joke and he’d be out the next afternoon. He sobered up and reached up to trail a slow finger over Howard’s jaw, noting the clenched tightness of it.

“You hired me for the night, Mister Stark. I’m here to pay up.”

Howard tilted his head like a retriever that had been asked to translate Hungarian before realization dawned in his eyes, followed swiftly by a dark hunger.

“Yeah? Ready to do your job?”

Steve nodded and bit his lip, gazing up coquettishly at Howard through his lashes.

“Of course. But…just be gentle with me, alright? I got used hard last night.”

Howard barked out a laugh and, grasping onto Steve’s forearms, marched him backwards until they cleared the doorway so that Howard could kick the door shut with one heel. It slammed with a loud sound that made Steve wince for one moment. So much for keeping it on the DL that they were screwing. The thought immediately vanished as Howard walked him to the bed and shoved, sending Steve sprawling back against the sheets. He propped a knee on the bed between Steve’s thighs, looming over him.

“Gentle? Little slutty fucks like you don’t get gentle, darling. No, you get quite the opposite.”

Steve shuddered at the naked desire in the tone, spreading his legs wider almost instinctively.

“W-what’s the opposite, Mister Stark?”

Howard came down over him, other knee coming up to spread him wide and hands landing near Steve’s ears. He pinned Steve in place with his eyes more than his body, and his next words sent a violent shudder through him.

“Whores like you get fucked sloppy and _ruined_.”

Steve whined and tugged at the loose shirt Howard had slipped on, fists clenched in the material as his hips rolled. Howard laughed at his enthusiasm, leaning up to strip the shirt off and stepping off the bed to pull on Steve’s swim trunks. At first, getting Steve to admit that he had the kink had taken Howard pouring half a bottle of liquor into him and pumping his cock until Steve thought he was going to go mad.

He’d finally sobbed it out when Howard had stopped his orgasm for the second time and Howard’s reaction had been nothing like he’d been expecting. Normally, people would react with disgust, the recent campaign against slut-shaming making it taboo to desire this sort of treatment, but Howard had groaned like he’d been hit and dropped down to suck him off, growling how hot that was and how he couldn’t wait to do it.

Steve distantly heard the smack of his still damp trunks hitting the floor before his world spun and his face was slammed into the bed. Howard kicked his feet wider from where Steve had managed to plant them and shoved Steve forward until he was completely bent over the bed, ass up and hole damn near fully exposed from the spread stance.

“Stay just like that, slut. I’m gonna go get what I need.”

He nodded at Howard’s command, groaning at the smack he landed to punctuate his words. Steve turned his head so it wasn’t buried in the bed, hearing Howard yank open the case they’d shoved into the back of the car and brought themselves to the house.

“You’re gonna wear a condom, right, Mister Stark?” He asked softly, and Howard chuckled, padding back to him and letting Steve know he was there with a stroke down his flank. 

“No more of that Mister Stark shit. Call me whatever you want, but not that. And no, little slutty fucks like you don’t get condoms. What part of sloppy and ruined wasn’t clear?”

The pop of the lube cap was Steve’s only warning before two slick fingers shoved into him. He arched and cried out, but shoved back onto them, the slight burn not in the slightest diminishing the erection that hung heavy between his thighs. Howard pumped them in and out, stretching him slowly as Steve moaned and bucked. A hand suddenly wrapped around his cock and he jumped, whining as the tight grip.

“Jesus fuck, you like this don’t you, tramp? No wonder you bend over for any stray dick that wants to get inside you. Do you cum when they fill you up, hmmm? Do you go nuts for the feeling of their cum leaking out of your wrecked hole?”

Steve sobbed his affirmation into the comforter, his breath hitching when Howard shoved a third finger in with the other two. He was half out of his mind already, quickly caught up in his own game. He hadn’t expected Howard to be so very good at playing the part of an abusive john, nor had he expected his own extremely favorable re-action to the behavior. He was brought out of his thoughts by a hard smack to his ass, jolting and shoving back onto Howard’s fingers.

“Christ, look at how fucking desperate you are for my cock. Why don’t you beg for it sweetheart? Beg me to screw your tight little fuckhole until you’re screaming.” Howard said, yanking his fingers away and gripping onto Steve’s hips so he couldn’t buck backwards.

“Please! Please, please, please. Fuck me, fuck my ass until you cum. Please, I wanna feel you split me open on your huge cock.” Steve wailed, rolling his hips desperately against Howard’s hold. 

One hand lifted from his hip and he felt the hot press of Howard’s cock pushing against him. Steve took one deep fortifying breath before shoving backwards suddenly; surprising Howard to the point where the man couldn’t stop him, and getting his lover’s entire dick inside in one go. 

Howard groaned and his hips bucked once before a hand came out and fisted in Steve’s hair, yanking his head back in a tight grip.

“Did I fucking say you could have my cock, you goddamn slut?! Worthless whore, I should throw you out on your ass, let you find another cock to fill you up. God, if you weren’t so tight… How in the hell are you this tight, hmm? I know you must have a dick wrecking your ass every night, are all the other’s that tiny?”

Steve arched hard at the words, cock jerking as he nodded as best he could against Howard’s tight grip. He knew others might have a problem with the pain, but to Steve it was the only thing keeping him from coming all over the bed at this point.

“Y-yeah, yeah, no one’s as big as you…Big Daddy.” He whimpered, before having to muffle a scream in his forearm as Howard let go of his hair and gripped hard onto his hips, pounding into him with harsh snaps of his hips.

“Big Daddy, huh? Want me to be your sugar daddy, sweetheart? Want me to buy your ass off your pimp and just have you as my little fuck-toy? Not a bad idea, could just leave you with your ass up in the air all the time, whenever I get bored just go over and fuck another load into your sloppy hole. Want that? Wanna be Big Daddy’s little cumbucket?” He asked, not stopping in the slightest as Steve bucked and thrust back against him, his words raking trails of fire across Steve’s brain.

“Yes!” Steve whimpered, unhooking his teeth from where he’d bitten down and licking over the blood that welled up on the meat of his forearm. “Yes, please, please buy me Big Daddy. Please just give me all your cum. Wanna be soaking wet and loose from you.”

“Heh, you’re already loose, bitch. At this rate, I might as well be fucking my own hand, at least it can tighten back up. Can’t believe you stretched around my cock so fast. Your ass must’ve been hungry for a dick in it, huh? Come on, tighten up around me or I’m not even gonna get close.” Howard commanded with a sharp slap to Steve’s ass. 

He tightened reflexively at the hit, moaning like the whore he was pretending to be when it made Howard’s cock, already disproportionately huge for his size, feel like a damn baseball bat. Howard must’ve enjoyed it though because his thrusts became harsher, the hard slams indicative his lover was getting close to the edge despite his words. Steve just let himself take every push of Howard’s hips, turning his face to the side so he could breathe, paying no mind to the drool that was slipping out from the harsh fuck.

Howard, however, did pay it mind and suddenly Steve had two fingers thrust deep into his mouth. He instinctively sucked at them, relaxing in his decision when he heard Howard laugh darkly at the sight.

“Should’ve known a little slut like you wouldn’t be satisfied with only a cock up your ass. Next time I’ll buy you a gag so something can fill your pretty mouth. Or, hell, maybe I’ll let you pick out a nice fake cock so you can deepthroat it. You’re gonna need practice after all, I want to be able to feel you lick my balls while my cock’s buried down your throat, hear me? Shit, I’m gonna cum after all. Think I should cum inside you? Think you’ve done a good enough job that you deserve it?”

This was the part where Howard left all the choice up to Steve. If Steve said he had deserved it, Howard would yank out and not cum inside him, but if he swore he didn’t deserve it, Howard would accuse him of not wanting to be marked up for his next john and spill every single drop inside him. Steve wanted to feel Howard’s cum fill him up, but he also loved to see what Howard would do when he said he deserved it. It was always amazingly hot.

“Yes, yes, please. I was a good boy, right, Big Daddy? Bent over so nice for you. Please, cum inside me?”

Howard, true to form, snorted and ground in hard once before stepping back, pulling himself completely out abruptly. Steve barely had time to cry out at the sudden loss before Howard was shoving him further onto the bed and flipping him, so that Steve was facing him with his bare ass hanging off the edge, pressed against Howard’s thighs. Howard reached down and gripped himself, cock hard and shining with the lube he’d used. He began to jack himself quickly, glaring down at Steve’s form.

“I only cum inside lovers, and you’re just a hole for me to fuck until I get bored with you. No, no, you’re gonna wear my cum. All you’re good for anyways, why not show it off? Now…the only question is where do I cum? Should I cum over your tits like you’re a chippie I picked up? Or maybe on your face, make you walk outta here with your cheeks dripping so everyone knows what you are? No…no, none of those. I got it.” Howard grinned maliciously at him and worked his arm faster, the clench of his jaw telling Steve he was insanely close. Steve wondered for a moment where in the world Howard was going to cum. The only places he’d done it before were the two he’d vetoed. 

His answer came quickly as Howard groan and bucked, tilting his hips down and striping Steve’s own rock hard cock with his cum. Steve bucked and writhed at the feel of the hot liquid covering his sensitive erection as it gave a violent jerk and spilled some pre-cum from the tip just at the action.

Howard finally stopped and, panting harshly, braced himself with a hand on either of Steve’s thighs, shoving them even wider. He locked eyes with Steve and grinned, inclining his head to the white cream that covered Steve.

“There you go, tramp. Jerk yourself off with my cum. Bet you’ll explode within seconds, ridiculous little whore. Do it. Now.” 

The thought of disobeying the snarled order didn’t even cross Steve’s mind and he reached down, wrapping a tight fist around himself and pumping. Howard’s cum made the perfect lube and within the seconds Howard predicted, the fact that he was using his lover’s cum to jerk off got to him and he was spilling over his own hand, crying out Howard’s name.

He must’ve passed out for a second there, because when he came back around Howard was finishing wiping him off with a warm, damp cloth. He leaned over when he saw Steve’s eyes flutter open and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Steve smiled up at him softly and Howard chuckled, bumping their noses in a ridiculously cute gesture at odds with the previous act.

“You really are a deadly little boy, you know that?” He asked, tossing the cloth atop Steve’s trunks and crossing to the dresser to pull out a pair of running shorts and an old jersey of his.

“Your deadly little boy.” Steve muttered, grinning at Howard’s suffering groan and tugging the clothes on quickly. Howard shook his head and put the lube bottle into the bedside table before crossing to the door.

“Darling boy. Wanna go grab us some water bottles while I go make sure Barnes hasn’t killed my kid?” He asked, and Steve nodded, following him down the hall until they split at the archway, Howard heading outside while Steve padded into the massive kitchen. 

He went to tug open the fridge when his attention was caught by a piece of tech lying half under it and he leant down to pick it up, task forgotten. Huh, it looked like Tony’s cell phone. But what in the world was it doing laying on the floor with the screen shattered? Throwing a look over his shoulder, he hit the button to bring up the screen, not expecting much. To his surprise it glowed, but there was nothing on it but the screen that came up when you finished a call, letting you know the call time and whatnot. Looks like Tony had been talking to his mom, right before he’d come out to swim with them.

He’d just laid the phone onto the island, choosing not to snoop further, when Howard’s loud ‘what the fuck?!’ brought his head around and he went sprinting in the direction of the pool. God, he hoped Bucky and Tony hadn’t been doing anything. Definitely not the way he wanted Howard to find out. 

He skidded to a stop, heart beating a fast tattoo in his chest as he surveyed the scene. Bucky sat back in his lounge chair, seemingly unaffected, and if Steve hadn’t been incredibly used to seeing Bucky he wouldn’t have noticed that the man’s hair was mussed beyond normal and his clothes sat a bit awkwardly. That wasn’t what Howard was staring at though. No, his husband was glaring at Tony who was standing there looking like a puppy who’d gotten his nose whapped.

Steve looked around wildly before zeroing in on the smashed bottle at Tony’s feet. He winced when he saw the familiar blue label lying on the ground, face up for the world to see.

“Damnit, Tony, what the **hell** are you thinking?! You’re sixteen goddamn years old and I catch you trying to drink whiskey?!” Howard shouted and Tony’s fists clenched before he snapped his head up and glared at his dad.

“And so what? How fucking old were you when _you_ started, Dad? Maybe I was just trying to get a start on the whole drunken bastard thing so when I inevitably fuck up and knock up some chick, I’ve got an excuse for why I can’t spend time with my kid too!” He snarled back and Howard’s face grew blood red in the light of the flames.

“Ever think maybe I drank _because_ I knocked some chick up?!”

Steve saw the moment that Tony took Howard’s words the wrong way, his whole body shutting down. He knew Howard meant that he drank because of Maria, because he’d explained to Steve that he’d only married her because she got pregnant with Tony, even though he knew she was fast and loose. But Tony didn’t know, so he took Howard’s words at face value and the shattered look on his face meant he thought Howard was saying he drank because of Tony.

Steve lifted a hand to stop the boy but Tony was already gone, taking off down the path and vaulting over the gate that separated their home from the beach. He was tearing off down the sand at a break-neck pace and Steve was instantly terrified he was going to hurt himself, or worse. Howard shoved his hands through his hair and spun to face Steve with a horrified look, silently begging him to fix something he had no idea how to.

“Bucky, please—“ He’d barely gotten the words out when Bucky went sprinting past them, hauling himself over the gate with one hand and heading for the boy. Tony was young, but Bucky was army trained to haul ass when he needed to and Steve breathed a sigh of relief when he reached out and snagged Tony’s arm, yanking the boy to a stop. Tony pushed and shoved at him, voice but not words carrying over the sounds of the waves. Bucky merely held tight, his responses also unclear but the deep rumble of his shout just as audible as Tony’s. His eyes were torn from them for a moment when Howard threw himself into a nearby chair, burying his face in his hands.

Steve ran a hand down the man’s trembling back, casting one last look down the beach and breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that Tony had sagged against Bucky’s chest. He knelt down onto the concrete and laid his forehead against Howard’s temple, listening to the man pant harshly.

“I am the world’s biggest fuck-up of a father.” Howard breathed out, fingers shoved into his hair and gripping tightly. Steve shook his head and pulled the hands free, laying gentle kisses on Howard’s cheek until his breathing evened.

“No, you’re not. Tony misunderstood, baby. You reacted like any other parent would have when they found their kid drinking and it escalated because you two are too much alike.” Steve soothed, rubbing a hand up and down Howard’s back. 

The man nodded numbly and they sat in silence like that for a long while, breathing in the smell of the fire and relaxing in each other’s presence until footsteps brought their heads around. Tony was trudging up the path in front of Bucky, his eyes red and swollen from tears and his whole body a mass of exhaustion.

“Tony!” Howard leapt to his feet and rushed to the boy, tugging him into a hug Tony didn’t even try to fight. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I didn’t mean you. I didn’t. You’re…you’re my greatest creation, Tony.”

Tony lifted his head and smiled dimly at his father, pulling back slightly.

“I know, Dad. I know. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“You…you can go to your mothers if you want. I’ll have someone take you on the Jet tonight.”

Tony’s expression shuddered and he shook his head, stepping out of Howard’s arms.

“Nah, s’okay. She’s….really busy. Maybe after we get back, her, ah, meetings will have slowed down and I can go then. Look, I’m pretty exhausted. Sorry I tried to drink, it was fuck stupid of me, won’t happen again. Can I go to bed?” Tony sounded about as exhausted as he looked and Howard nodded sharply, not even commenting on Tony’s language, stepping aside and letting the boy pass.

As he did, Steve caught a glimpse of a familiar silver chain poking out from beneath the collar of the huge hoodie Tony’d tugged on after swimming and blinked dumbly. Those were…was Tony wearing Bucky’s tags? He shot the man in question a look, but Bucky shook his head minutely and strode over to his seat, shaking out a cigarette and lighting it with almost angry movements.

Howard had turned to watch Tony go, thankfully not noticing what Steve had, and had a thunderous expression on his face. Steve reached out and laid a hand on his arm, confused at the shift in mood.

“Howie, baby, what’s the matter?”

“Did you hear his voice when he talked about Maria?”

“Um..tired? He sounded tired that whole sentence, so I don’t—“

“No,” Howard cut him off, ripping his phone from his pocket and tapping the screen with harsher movements than necessary. Things clicked into place for Steve just before Howard spoke again. Tony’s hesitation over the word ‘meetings’, the shattered phone with the call from Maria, the way Tony had been overly happy when he’d come out to the pool, like he’d been forcing it…

“He knows. Goddamnit, Tony fucking _knows_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh. Here comes Papa Bear Howie.   
> So yes, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! (See? When there's time between chapters and lack of porn, I usually try to make it up really well!)   
> The next chapter will be...ugh. It's gonna be hell.  
> But, keep an eye out for an out-take of what Bucky and Tony did while HnS were getting busy, as well as the beach scene. It doesn't fit into the story flow, so it'll just be a standalone post to the series :)


	12. Secrets Revealed; a.k.a Howard Stark and Bucky Barnes: New Friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria Stark is a shit mother, eavesdropping never works out well, even accidentally, and Howard and Bucky bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Semi-explicit recounting of childhood sexual abuse by family members. Derogatory language toward a a female, and Stark family feels.

Howard could barely hold the phone steady as he held it tight to his ear, every dial tone wracking his rage up higher and higher. If Maria didn’t fucking answer, he was going to—

“What, Howard.”

“You fucking whore!” He burst out, seeing Steve jump out of the corner of his eye. He heard her offended gasp and spoke over whatever she was going to sputter out.

“No, no, shut your fucking mouth and listen to me, Maria. Would you like to explain to me why Tony, who doesn’t touch anything stronger than wine, just tried to swallow whiskey?!”

He heard her moving around before her tone came down the line, pissed off and arrogant, just like old times.

“Maybe because he’s _your_ goddamn son? And apparently being an alcoholic fuck-up runs in the genes?”

Howard snarled and paced, snatching the lit cigarette Barnes held out and drawing deeply, relishing the burn in his lungs that matched the one in his cheeks.

“You do **not** call my son a fuck-up, Maria. That kid’s the only good thing you ever managed to put on this Earth.”

“Oh, sure, he’s **your** son now. But when he was six and needy and clingy, he was my responsibility, right? What’s going on, Howard? Did your little fuck-toy make you call me and hash it out?”

“Leave Steve out of this, you bitch. He’s got absolutely nothing to do with this. This is about the fact that my kid just came to me looking fucking wrecked and I’ll bet my damn fortune it’s because of something you said to him.”

Maria sighed like this whole conversation was as bothersome as realizing you had on the wrong pair of shoes right before going out the door. He damn near dropped the cigarette he was holding because of the rage making his normally surgeon steady hands tremble. Only the sight of Steve smiling gently from where he had plopped down next to Barnes stopped him from becoming a raging mess.

“I didn’t say a thing to him, Howard. He called, bothering me about coming out here and accidentally over-heard Thom talking to me about our plans for the night. Plans you’re interrupting, I might add.”

“Oh, I’m _so sorry_ ,” Howard growled, taking one last long drag and crushing the cigarette into the nearby ashtray. Both Barnes and Steve were looking at him with equal looks of anger and appreciation and Howard felt a momentary rush of peace at the fact that these men were behind him, were angry because he was angry.

It was odd having someone have your back.

“I’m so sorry I’m interrupting your precious mattress time, Maria. I know how you so value the time you get to spend on your back.”

“Of course you do,” Maria sneered. “You loved having me on my back. The only time we ever got along, actually. Is it like that with your new boy? Only valuable when he’s lying under your disgusting body? Does he know you’ll divorce him too when he stops putting out like I did?”

Howard literally saw red at her words and spun on his heel, gripping the phone so hard he heard it creak.

“No, it’s nothing like it was with you, Maria. It doesn’t feel like I’m trying to fuck a goddamn coffee can. And the only reason we got a divorce is because you stopped putting out for me, but not for every other dick that sniffed in your direction, you **fucking cunt**.”

He figured Steve’s gasp was because of his language and looked over, meaning to shoot the man an apologetic glance, when he realized Steve wasn’t looking at him. No, he was half out of the chair, eyes locked on the doorway to the house.

Howard turned slowly, already knowing with a sense of dread exactly what he’d see. Sure enough, Tony stood a few feet from the doorway, looking insanely young with the helpless expression on his face. Howard cursed and hung up, cutting off Maria’s shrieks of indignation and anger.

“Tony,” he began, clapping his mouth shut when the boy held up his hands in front of him. Tony lowered them slowly, keeping his eyes locked with Howard’s.

“Is it true?”

“Tony, I never meant—“

“Is it true, Dad?”

Howard let out a harsh breath and planted his hands on his hips, shaking his head at the ground before meeting Tony’s pained gaze once again.

“Yeah. It’s true, Tony.”

Howard could almost see Tony’s entire world shatter around him at the moment and he’d never before ached so very much to take his own child into his arms. But the way Tony hugged himself and curled inwards told Howard it probably wouldn’t be well met and he was trying to lessen the blow, not augment it.

He felt like his feet had been nailed to the floor, unable to move even when Tony’s shoulders began to shake and sobs floated out into the silence. Movement next to him barely registered until Steve came into his line of vision, crossing to Tony and cautiously wrapping his arms around the boy. Howard cringed when he saw just how quickly Tony re-acted to the warm presence, clinging to Steve and burying his face in his husband’s shirt. For Tony to cling so quickly to a man he’d met only days ago, it showed just how desperate he was for affection, how starved he’d become for simple comforting human contact.

Comfort.

Yes, that was it. Howard may be complete shit at affection and love but he’d managed to do one actual fatherly thing in Tony’s entire life. Something the boy apparently still clung to.

He strode forwards, locking eyes with Steve as the man rocked Tony gently and whispered soft words that seemed to be working, as Tony’s full-body shudders were growing further and further apart. Steve’s eyes were brimmed with tears of sympathy and Howard felt yet another pang of love for the amazing man he’d managed to convince to love him. He inclined his head towards the open door and Steve nodded before returning his attention to the child still clinging to him.

Howard was just pulling open the door to the fridge and reaching in to grab the iced tea when Barnes strode around the corner, dragging a chair out from the kitchen island and settling in it. He could feel the man’s eyes on him as he puttered around, grabbing out the licorice and chamomile drops from the cupboard as well as the food coloring package. He stuck the tea in the microwave, letting it heat while he tossed the other ingredients into a martini mixer. Barnes finally spoke up once Howard had grabbed the tea and poured it in as well, speaking over the sloshing as he shook up the mixture.

“Steve and him are sitting out by the fire, talking.”

Howard nodded and grabbed a tall glass from the cabinet underneath, pouring the bright orange mixture into it. When he turned back from setting the mixer on the counter next to the sink, Barnes had the glass halfway to his mouth. Howard leaned back against the counter and watched Barnes take a small sip, smacking his lips as he set it back down.

“Hmmm, tastes like someone spiked a long island iced tea with Jaeger.”

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? Tony used to have trouble sleeping when he was a kid, looking back now though, I wouldn’t be able to sleep either if I’d have lived like he did. So one night when Maria was out and Jarvis was down sick, he came into my lab. Kid was almost falling over exhausted but his eyes were wild, that look you get when you need to sleep so badly you’re almost begging for it, but your brain just won’t shut off? So I took him up, grabbed some tea Marta had made, chamomile because everyone knows about that, and licorice. Tony would eat just about anything if it was licorice flavored. Of course, he was five at the time, and looked at it like it was poison. So I threw in food coloring. The minute it turned that bright ass color he chugged it. Within about five minutes he was passing out in the chair and I had to carry him to his room.” 

Howard smiled at the memory, eye glazing as he remembered the soft weight of Tony’s sleep warm body against his. At the time, he’d actually had enough of a break to realize how precious the moment was, and he’d even brushed a kiss over Tony’s forehead when he’d settled his son’s dead weight into bed. Of course, that was about the only good thing he’d ever done for his kid. 

The thought broke him from his reverie and he looked up to see Barnes staring at him with an odd expression on his face.

“What?” He snapped, suddenly self-conscious.

“How many people have you told that to?”

The question made Howard start and he blinked, mentally counting in his head. The number was…surprisingly small.

“Ah…Jarvis. And now you, I suppose.”

Barnes nodded and looked down at his clasped hands atop the counter. He seemed to sigh and shrink in on himself before he spoke again.

“You’re not a shitty dad.”

Howard barked out a laugh and shook his head, tightening his grip on the counter lip.

“Oh, yeah I am. Barnes, my kid just walked out on me calling his mother a cunt. He just found out I’d kept a massive secret from him all these years. And that’s cake compared to the way I treated him when he was a kid.”

“Did you ever shove your hands down his pants?” Barnes asked, nailing him with a hard stare. Howard choked at the words and vehemently shook his head. 

“No! Fuck, no, Barnes. Why in the hell would you even ask that?!” He sputtered out and Barnes let out a low laugh of his own, the sound hollow. 

“Story time, right? You show me yours; I guess I can show you mine. I know you’re not a shitty dad because I grew up with one of the shittiest. When other kids turn 7 they expect to start getting more grown-up toys, electronics and shit right? I got my dad walking into my room at 3 in the morning, picking me up by the back of my neck and cramming his cock down my throat. He said I was finally a man now and I needed to take it like one. Got worse as I got older, of course. Shit always does. I made the mistake of telling my uncle, thinking maybe he’d help me out. Turns out, he just wanted a piece of the action. I lost count how many times I’d have to shove a fucking pad in my underwear so I didn’t bleed through my pants at school. So, no, Stark. You’re not a shit dad. Not by any means.”

Howard swallowed back the bile that had steadily rose up his throat as the man talked and lifted his hands in an aborted motion that was stopped when Barnes nailed him with a glare.

“I don’t want your pity, Stark. I told you so you’d realize there are other people out there who would’ve done a hell of a lot worse to Tony than you did.”

Howard dropped his hands back down and glanced at the floor, thinking over the protective glint in Barnes’ eyes when he talked about Tony.

“You care about him, don’t you?” He asked the floor, and he heard the soldier inhale sharply before answering.

“Yes.”

He looked up and crossed the short distance, leaning his weight on the palms he planted on the counter.

“Will you be there for him? After all this, it’s gonna be even harder for me to build bridges. I’m still going to try like it’s my dying wish, but I can only push so hard. And Steve’s good, Steve’s damn good, but Tony isn’t comfortable around him the way he seems around you. So, will you?”

Barnes, no…no, this was Bucky. This was a soldier who’d survived torture, a child who’d survived rape, a man who’d been broken and beaten and spit on and still managed to laugh and joke. Bucky nodded sharply, wetting his lips before speaking.

“On my honor, as a soldier and as a man, if Tony needs me, I’ll be there for him.”

Howard nodded sharply and stuck out his palm, relief gripping him as tightly as Bucky did when they shook. They were both just pulling back as Steve and Tony appeared in the doorway, both of them looking emotionally and physically exhausted.

And painfully beautiful to Howard. The perfect contrast of Steve’s golden boy good looks against Tony’s dark and scared countenance. In that instant, taking in the gentle hand Steve had clasped on Tony’s shoulder, Howard had never loved the man he married more.

Steve guided them both in, shooting Howard a meaningful look as he let Tony go and started out of the room. Bucky sent him a sharp nod, resting a gentle hand on Tony’s shoulder as well before he followed. Howard made a mental note of the way Tony’s hand twitched like he wanted to grab onto the man, realizing he’d made the correct choice in asking Bucky to look out for him. Tony settled into the seat Bucky had vacated, pulling the glass towards him and taking a sip before looking at Howard with eyes that were too old for his young face.

“We need to talk.”

“Yeah, kiddo, I guess we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, I know, but this time I can't even say I'm sorry. My heart hurts too much right now to continue. But they say it's always darkest right before the dawn, let's hope that rings true for our boys.


	13. Howard Tries to Fix Things (And Bucky Succeeds)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard and Tony finally have a chat, and still don't manage to accomplish what Bucky Barnes does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Corporal Punishment that's enjoyed by the receiver. Also, technically underage, even though that wasn't the point. (Because Tony's a slut)

Howard reached into the fridge once more and grabbed his own tea while Tony sipped at his drink. He knew he was stalling, but this conversation wasn’t one he’d thought he’d ever have. He assumed either he would die or, more likely, Tony would just cut all ties with him before the truth came out.

“So, did you guys ever love each other?”

Howard sighed at the question and turned around, leaning back against the counter and cracking open his drink. Tony was looking straight at him, and Howard felt a flush of pride that his son’s reality was crumbling and he was determined to look it in the eye and tell it to blow him.

“I think…maybe we loved the idea of each other? I loved that she was going to give me an heir, and I think Maria loved the idea that she was marrying into the wealth and power that she was.”

“If you didn’t love each other, why in the hell did you stay together for eight years?”

“It…hell, kiddo, I honestly don’t know that one. I didn’t wanna lose my kid? I didn’t wanna bother with divorce? I thought, maybe, she’d change?”

Tony quirked a small smile at him and moved his glass around in circles on the counter.

“You’ve got better control than me. If I’d have found her cheating _once_ she’d have been out on her ass, kid or no.”

Howard inclined the glass bottle at him and took another sip, rolling the flavor around in his mouth in an effort to buy some time. A part of him that wanted Tony to respect women wanted to remind him that was still his mother and talking about her like that wasn’t alright. On the other hand, a very bitter part of him wanted to let Tony rant and rave about how much of a bitch she was and turn this into a real Maria shame fest.

“Did Obi know? Jarvis? Marta?” Tony asked, leaning his forearms on the counter and raising his brows. Howard winced but nodded.

“Yeah. Everyone knew but I told them not to tell you. I didn’t want you opinion of your mom to be colored by what she’d done to me.”

Storm clouds gathered in Tony’s eyes and he straightened in his chair.

“So I was just an oblivious fucking idiot and everyone around me was told to shut up so they didn’t hurt my feelings?!”

“No! Tony, everyone was told to shut their mouths so you could form your own opinion of her.”

Tony visibly deflated, muttering about how well that had turned out, and taking another sip from his glass. Howard rolled the cold tea between his hands and thought about what in the world Tony was going to say next. It could be anything from rage at his mother, at him, at the world, to depression. If he had to cut the vacation short and go home Steve wouldn’t give a damn, but Howard was really hoping that wasn’t the case.

“Dad?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can I...not see her again?”

The way he curled into his hoodie and wrapped his hands around the glass made it achingly clear to Howard that this was his sixteen year old son who’d just found out his mother didn’t want a damn thing to do with him. He crossed the floor and laid a hand on Tony’s shoulder, bringing that dark head up so their eyes locked.

“You don’t wanna see her, I’ll make sure it happens. Hell, I'll get Steve on it. He'll stand outside the mansion with a baseball bat.”

Tony snorted and the seriousness of the moment was abruptly broken for a split second and they were just a father and son laughing over a shared joke. It quickly sobered once again and Tony picked at a loose hangnail with his teeth, looking over his shoulder to where Steve and Bucky had disappeared.

“Steve’s a really nice guy.”

“Yeah, I kinda like him.” Howard replied, leaning forward and waiting to see where Tony would take this line of thinking.

“So’s Bucky.”

“When he’s not being a complete asshole, sure.”

“Will you tell me one day about how you guys met?”

Howard nodded and straightened. He would gladly tell Tony all he wanted to know now, no point in hiding anything any longer since the biggest skeleton in the closet had been laid out on the dining room table. Tony nodded and stood, gulping down what was left in his glass and shaking it with a nod that showed his thanks before plopping it down.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed, been one hell of a night.”

“Agreed. Sleep well, kid.”

“Yeah, you too. Oh hey, can I ask a favor?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Think maybe Obi wouldn’t mind flying out? I kinda want an outsider’s take on things, y’know?”

It would be hell and it would make Steve uncomfortable but at this point Howard was ready to damn near take a nosedive into the pool to take the wrecked look from his son’s eyes.

“Sure thing, pal. I’ll give him a call tomorrow and see if he’s got time.”

Tony nodded and, waving a lazy hand, disappeared down the darkened hall. Howard set the tea on the counter and leaned onto the granite, stacking his forearms and resting his head on them, just breathing in the silence. Today had gone nothing like he’d wanted it to, but he couldn’t say a part of him wasn’t jumping for joy at the prospect of getting to send people in to carry Tony’s shit out of Maria’s house. Even if she didn’t want Tony, she didn’t like to lose, especially not to him, and seeing her try to worm her way back in would be amusing, if infuriating.

Soft footsteps alerted him to another presence and he grinned at the warm press of Steve into his back, lifting up and turning slightly to accept the man’s kiss. He’d showered and smelled of Howard’s shampoo and soap, damp locks still slicked back from his face. Howard fully spun in the loose arms Steve had wrapped around his waist and cupped the man’s cheeks, pulling him into a deep kiss that, Howard hoped, conveyed his love and appreciation for all Steve had done tonight.

When they pulled back, the light flush beneath his hands told him it’d been effective and Steve, in a motion that should’ve made Howard feel delicate but really didn’t, lifted him onto the counter he’d just been propped on, stepping between his legs. He nuzzled into Howard’s throat, relaxing under the gentle stokes of Howard’s hands up and down his broad back. Howard dropped a kiss onto his hair and propped his chin on the top of Steve’s head, holding him close.

“So, how did it go?” Steve asked, voice muffled by Howard’s skin.

“Not…awful. He’s understandably overwhelmed. But he did ask to not have to see Maria again so that’s a plus. He also asked if Obi could come out here, so he had someone from the outside to talk to.” 

Howard winced at the tension that instantly flooded through Steve and kept up the strokes of his hands, hoping to ease it away. Steve and Obi had never gotten along fantastically, something about each other making it impossible to form a friendship. Howard had assumed, after Steve’s break-down, that on Steve’s side it was suspicion.

Apparently not.

“I can always tell him Obi’s too busy?”

“No!” Steve whipped back so fast Howard had to kick his head back to avoid smashing his teeth together. “He’s been lied to enough, Howard. No more!”

Howard held up his hands in surrender and nodded, making a mental note to call Obi tomorrow and see if he could squeeze in a day with them. The good thing about the time delay was that if he timed it right he could still get a lot done.

For right now, however…

“So, do you know what I would like to do now?”

“Hmmm…what?” Steve asked, as Howard shot him a grin and hopped from the counter, wrapping a hand around either of Steve’s hipbones and pressing another kiss to his mouth.

“I would like to take my very handsome, very fantastic, and very wonderful husband to bed, wrap him in my arms, and fall asleep. Sound good?”

“Oh, God, yes.” Steve all but moaned out and Howard laughed, letting the man tug him out of the kitchen and down the hall. 

Movement from behind him almost had him turning his head but Steve stopped in their doorway and drug his head around for a dizzying kiss. Howard returned it just as eagerly, following the man into the room after they separated. Steve whipped off the shirt and pants he’d pulled on and climbed into the far side of the bed, already settling himself. With a note to shower first thing in the morning, Howard stripped down to his briefs as well and climbed in behind his husband, loving how easily the man fit under his arm. They didn’t often get to spoon, Steve’s tendency to latch onto him before he’d turned onto his side stopping that, but when they did it was amazing.

It also led to the advanced chance for morning sex since even at his age, waking up with Steve’s perfect ass pressed against him was more than enough to get him rock hard.

Howard pressed a kiss to the back of Steve’s neck and smiled at the peaceful sigh the man let out in response.

“I love you, darling boy. Sleep well.”

“I love you too, Howie. G’night.

**************************************

Tony waited until he heard the creaking of the bedsprings from his father’s room before opening the door the rest of the way and creeping out into the hall. He’d almost stepped out too soon, only Steve’s fantastic timing with the kiss making it so his dad didn’t catch him. On bare feet, he crept silently to the door at the other end of the hall from his dad and Steve’s. The chain Bucky had slipped around his neck were a comforting weight as he opened the door a crack and slipped inside, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.

Once he did, he became abruptly aware of the fact that the little glint of light that was hovering in front of his face was the barrel of a gun.

“B-Bucky!” He squeaked out and the man swore, the gun swinging down and footsteps pounding away before the bedside light flipped on.

Bucky started admonishing him about sneaking into people’s rooms and how he could’ve shot his ass and what the hell did he want anyways, but Tony really wasn’t listening.

In his defense though, who would be?

In his anger, Bucky had apparently forgotten he’d stripped naked, or maybe in the army he’d just gotten so used to it he no longer cared, and his powerful body bathed in the glow of the lamp gave Tony the perfect view. Broad shoulders, lean hips, rippling abs, scars that added to the whole picture, not detracted. And then the piece de resistance hanging between Bucky’s legs, thick and long and not even erect. Tony licked his lips at the thought of what in the hell it must look like hard and had the sudden urge to drop to his knees, open his mouth, and find out.

But Bucky, even if he had put the gun back under his pillow, still had his fists and Tony wasn’t in the mood to get brain dusted again today.

He came back to reality as Bucky cursed, shut the light off, and scrambled for his shorts lying in a heap by the side of the bed, apparently catching on to just what Tony was staring at. He pulled them on with quick movements and crossed his arms, pinning Tony in place with a glare he could feel, even if he couldn't see it.

“What the hell’re you doing here? Go to bed, it’s been a long fucking day.”

Tony shook his head and took a small step forward, wringing his hands like an old maid. This was risky and there was, based on past experience, a 94.375% chance Bucky would tell him to get the hell out. But he had to try, if only so he could get some actual sleep tonight.

“I…ah…I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Beg pardon?”

“That is, um,” Tony cleared his throat and waved a hand around the room like an idiot. “I don’t…I don’t wanna be alone right now. Feeling pretty alone emotionally, not really wantin’ the physical aspect too, y’know?”

Bucky cursed and ran his hands through his hair, sitting down hard on the side of his bed. He reached for his cigarette’s and lit one, the glow almost neon in the darkness. Tony cautiously took a few steps into the room, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Did you and your pops talk?”

“Y-Yeah. Got a few things out in the open. We didn’t talk for very long, I’m too damn tired for that.” Tony answered and Bucky nodded, smoking slowly, his face thrown into shadows by the glow.

He took the man’s relaxed shoulders as an invitation to creep closer and closer until finally he gingerly sank his weight onto the mattress next to the man. The immediate ache that popped up in his lower back once the weight was off it made him groan and Bucky looked over at him, still silent. Tony bit his lip and shook his head, cautiously and slowly leaning until his head was pillowed on Bucky’s shoulder. He inhaled the scent of the man, cigarettes and some other clean smell Tony assumed was his soap. Buried under all that was a dark scent that was entirely Bucky. 

Bucky’s shoulders moved as the man leaned forward and stabbed out the cigarette in the ashtray, the thoughtless hand he propped on Tony’s back to keep his steady spreading slow warmth over his skin. He settled back down once again, heaving a sigh and running one hand through his hair once again. Tony saw his resolve cracking and sat straighter, knowing if he was going to get his way, now was his shot at convincing the soldier.

“Please? I’ll be really good and I’ll keep my hands to myself. Dad and Steve won’t ever know because Dad gets up at 7 on the dot if he doesn’t have anything going on that day and by then I’ll be long gone. I promise. Please, Buck? I just…I feel like the world’s crashing around me and I don’t have a grip on anything anymore.” He pleaded, one hand coming out to wrap around Bucky’s bicep. Tony was momentarily distracted by the muscles shifting under his fingers and missed Bucky’s response.

“W-what?”

“I said alright, kid. But only for tonight, you keep your damn hands to yourself, and if you’re not gone before your pops gets up, I’m gonna hang you from the ceiling fan, got it?” He said and Tony nodded furiously, resisting the urge to bounce up and down in place. Bucky reached over and tapped out a few things on his phone, Tony could see he was setting a 6am alarm, before replacing it on the side table and standing, motioning for Tony to get under the covers.

Tony stood and shucked off his shirt, deciding not to test his luck and keep his shorts on, crawling under the thick covers and settling on the far side. He felt Bucky slide in behind him and wriggled backwards until the man’s chest was pressed against his back. Tony was bounced around for a few minutes as Bucky tossed and turned trying to get comfortable before the man assumed his earlier position, but this time draped his arm over Tony’s midsection. He couldn’t resist burrowing further into the heat at his back, grinning at Bucky’s grunt when his ass ground against a familiar bulge.

“I could help you out with that, y’know.”

“You can help by shutting your mouth and going to bed.”

“Come onnnn.” Tony wheedled, rolling his hips in a slow grind and almost moaning when a hard hand clapped down on his hip, stopping the movement.

“Go. To. Bed. I’m not touching you, you’re not touching me. We’re gonna sleep.”

“I don’t have to touch you. You could just flip onto your back, wrap your fist around your dick, and let me talk about how I want you to fuck my throat, call me your little pretty whore, fucking break me with that thick cock.” Tony nearly fist pumped in satisfaction when Bucky’s hips jolted against him at the words, before startling when the man suddenly jumped out of bed. 

He sat up quickly and looked to where Bucky was standing at the side of the bed, hands on his hips, almost invisible save for the light of the moon filtering through the sliding glass doors. Sure enough, the fabric on his hips was distended to a length that made Tony want to drool. Tony shoved the covers back and crawled towards him, putting an extra sway into his hips as he did.

“Come on, Buck. I’ve had a hell of a day. Letting me suck the cum out of your cock is the least you can do to make me feel better.” He begged, reaching a hand out to grab ahold of the hard flesh.

Bucky’s hand came down on his once again and Tony hissed at the burn, yanking the appendage back. They froze there for a long moment, both waiting to see what the other would do, before Bucky exhaled hard and climbed back into the bed. He lit another cigarette from his pack and brought it to his lips, lying flat on his back. Tony figured at this point Bucky was gonna kick him out any second anyways, why not go for the gold?

Moving quickly, he swung one leg over Bucky’s hips and brought their erections together, moaning at the friction. Bucky merely grunted, otherwise reaction-less and Tony blinked in surprise. Was he not going to do anything? Was he so pissed at Tony he just was going to ignore him? No. Nonononononono.

“You have five seconds to get off of me and lay down on your side of the bed like a good little boy or I’m going to beat your ass.” The voice that came out of Bucky’s throat was like nothing he’d ever heard from the man before. It was low, almost a snarl, and sent shivers of apprehension down Tony’s spine.

This…This wasn’t Bucky Barnes of the neon aviators and flower swim trunks. This was a soldier, hard battled and scarred from his experiences, and as dangerous as a hungry wolf who’d scented blood.

But Tony wasn’t about to give up his seat, or the glorious friction, and ground his hips down once again, rolling his eyes at the finger Bucky held up with his empty hand.

“Whatever, you aren’t gonna do it.”

Another finger and a long exhale of smoke.

“If you won’t kiss me, you certainly aren’t gonna spank my ass.”

Three fingers now and a hand reaching over to tap ashes off the end. Tony jolted his hips once again, so hard the tags on his chest bounced.

“Come on, Buck, just let it go. We’ll pretend I coerced you. You know you wanna fuck me.”

A fourth finger, and Bucky leaned over to balance the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, a curl of smoke rising lazily.

“Stop pretending like you don’t wanna grab my face and make me beg for your cock.”

Tony caught the flash of five fingers before the hand shifted and palmed the back of his neck, arm stretching between their bodies. The world spun as Bucky yanked him down, smashing his face into the pillow he’d been laying on, and brought his other hand down hard on Tony’s ass. The sharp burn only served to wrack the pleasure higher and he moaned, rubbing himself against the solid swell of Bucky’s hip. He kept going, bringing his hand down again and again, letting Tony keep humping his hip, until the world went white and Tony shuddered as his cock spilled between them, soaking straight through his underwear and shorts.

Bucky was panting harshly by the time Tony had come back to reality and Tony realized he was still hard against Tony’s thigh, rock hard in fact. But when Tony went to move, Bucky stopped him with a hand on his lower back, rubbing gently.

“You alright?”

“Um, I just came so hard my vision whited out. Yeah, think I’m good.”

“Wasn’t my intention.”

Tony grinned at the grunted words, easing himself onto his side and off of Bucky’s lap, taking care to nonchalantly drag his thigh over Bucky’s cock as he went. The burn on his flesh soothed him in a way, pain internal made external by way of a firm hand.

“Not your fault I’m a slut for punishment.”

Bucky groaned and dropped back down, grinding his palms into his eyes. Tony scooted until he could wrap around the man, delighting in the absent hand that wrapped around him, tracing designs on his back.

“Want me to do you?”

“Go the fuck to sleep, Tony.”

Tony grinned and pressed a quick kiss to Bucky’s pec before complying, sleep falling over him like a warm quilt, much like the one Bucky was tugging over them both. The last thing he thought before he was gone completely was that he’d never felt quite so safe going to bed before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, figured I'd give you a little Bucky/Tony since they won't really show up in the next chapter.  
> It's Howie/Steve bonding time!


	14. Role Reversal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard and Steve switch it up, Bucky believes in gender stereotyping, and Tony Stark needs to learn to knock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Comeplay/swapping and consensual insults (I feel like this is all coming to be expected from me). Also, an instance of derogatory language referencing the man in a gay couple who receives penetration. 
> 
> Sorry it took so long on this one! Enjoy!

Howard stirred his coffee the next morning, absently sucking the remnants off the spoon as he watched Steve pause by the pool and stretch, returning from his run. How in the world the boy had the drive for that after the morning activities, Howard didn’t have a clue.

Ah, the boundless energy of youth.

He ran his tongue along the metal in his mouth, eyes stuck on Steve as he lost himself in the memories of their slow love-making while the day broke. Steve straddling him, slipping him inside in one slow motion, whispering sweet nothings and coming to the sound of Steve sobbing out his love. It wasn’t rare that he and Steve had moments where all that was said was soft ‘I love you’s’ and gentle compliments, but lately it seemed like that had fallen to the wayside in deference to harsh words and rough touches. Howard made a note to fix that one of these nights, to pamper and sooth his lover like the man deserved. Steve may have had a list of kinks a mile long, but he was also an artist, with a soul as pure and clean as Howard’s was blackened and dark.

“-and then I’m gonna strip naked, cover myself in oil, and go tan on the hood of the Lambo.”

He blinked and started at Tony’s words, whipping around to see the boy sitting on the island, grinning wildly at him.

“W-What?!”

“You were off in la-la land, pops. Grounded now?”

Howard grumbled and, tugging the spoon from his mouth, launched it at the boy who dodged it neatly, laughing. He took a sip from his cup and regarded his son, looking for any signs Tony was still hurting from last night. He was shifting every so often on the counter, like he couldn’t find a comfortable position, but otherwise looked like a million bucks in his faded band tee and deconstructed shorts. All barely contained energy and joy, and if he wasn’t proficient in seeing shadows in eyes, Howard would think last night hadn’t even happened.

It was an odd juxtaposition to Bucky, who was yawning and stumbling through the entranceway, eyes barely half open with a ratty pair of shorts hanging onto his hips desperately. He made his way to Howard and fumbled around with the cupboard doors until Howard took pity on him and pulled a coffee cup from the stand near the pot. Bucky nodded and poured the cup full, blowing on it before taking a huge gulp. His sigh of satisfaction had just echoed through the room when Steve came through the back doors, crossing to give Howard a gentle kiss.

“How was your run?” Howard asked, shamelessly enjoying the view as Steve bent inside the refrigerator for a bottle of water. He chugged half of it before pulling off with a gasp, sending a shiver down Howard’s spine as he recalled Steve making the same noise when Howard gave him a small reprieve while fucking his throat.

“Not too bad, it was really neat to see everything, it’s so pretty here. I passed this cute little restaurant and chatted with the owner, she said we’ll have to come for breakfast one day. Best pancakes in all the islands, or so she claimed.”

Howard nodded and, finishing his coffee and batting Bucky out of the way to rinse it and put it in the dishwasher, mentally ran over his plans for the day. It would be a deviation from what he had planned out, but it would be worth it in the end.

“We could go today, if you’d like? I was planning on us going to breakfast together, sounds like you’ve already got a spot picked out.”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, grin already stretching across his cheeks, when Bucky interrupted, waving a hand around.

“What about me, Stark? Not very hospitable to leave your guests starving.”

Howard rolled his eyes and took his wallet out of his back pocket, thumbing off two fifty’s from the stack of bills and shoving them at the man.

“Here, fly and be free. That should cover you until we get back for dinner tonight.”

Bucky took the bills happily before glancing at Tony with a frown, looking between the money and him. Tony grinned and swung his feet, tapping the slight bulge in his front pocket.

“Spoiled rotten rich kid, remember? I’ve got more than enough to keep me occupied. I figured maybe I’d go wander around; see what car dealerships they’ve got around here.” He said, with a look at Howard who nodded, already following Steve back into their room to get changed.

“Sounds good. Don’t buy anything without me there, you know they see a kid and see an idiot.”

Tony snarked something in response but it was lost as Howard shut the bedroom door behind them, watching avidly as Steve shimmied out of his jogging clothes. He noticed Howard’s stare and did a little wiggle, grinning at the man. Howard crossed the room to pull him into a kiss, one hand slipping down to wrap gently around his half-interested cock and pump. Steve moaned against his lips as he swelled in Howard’s hand, letting the older man guide him backwards into the bathroom.

Steve whined when Howard pulled away, shoving him into the shower and quickly stripping off his own clothes before joining him. He pulled the door shut behind him and set the water temperature on the pad near the front, setting three of the six shower heads to massage in an attempt to loosen any muscles Steve may have tightened during his run. Howard knew he’d made the right decision when the rush of water started and Steve moaned at the pulse against his shoulders, shifting fully into the spray. He grinned and started on his own routine, batting away any hands Steve may have tried to lay on him. Steve eventually gave up with a pout and Howard waited until his back was turned, hands braced on the back wall and head dipped under the spray to rinse out his shampoo before stepping behind him, pressing his thumb firmly onto Steve’s hole and bending his fingers so they applied equal pressure to his perineum.

Steve jolted and bucked backwards, moaning while he let his head fall further forwards. Howard reached around with his free hand, wrapping it loosely around Steve’s hard cock and stroking in a slow rhythm, pulling away every time the man bucked. Once Steve was writhing, caught between staying still so Howard wouldn’t take his hand away and thrusting back onto the hand still applying pressure, Howard stepped away completely. Steve whined, a confused tone in his voice while Howard soaped up his hands, washing himself quickly before lathering up again and running them along Steve’s tight body. He kept it almost clinical, except for when he scrubbed between Steve’s cheeks, letting just the tip of his finger slip into the tight heat before withdrawing and continuing on his way. Once he’d scrubbed the boy clean, Steve was making little aborted movements with his hips, undulating with his hands braced behind him on the back wall.

“Alright, c’mon sweetheart, time to get out.” Howard said, flipping the water off and pulling open the shower door.

 He’d just gotten one of the large fluffy towels that lay on the warming rack wrapped around his hips when Steve stepped out, cheeks flushed and erection a dark, painful looking red between his thighs. Howard grinned and planted a hand on his husband’s lower back, guiding the confused man over to the sink. He bent him forwards with a hand on the back of his neck, so that Steve had to brace his forearms on the marble and was staring at his reflection in the massive mirror. Howard could see the question on his face, the same one he was forming with his lips, and cut him off before he could speak.

“Consider today my thank you for last night. I’m going to lick you open until you cum all over yourself, and while I do that I want you to talk to me. Tell me everything, how it feels, what you want me to do to you tonight, how you look in the mirror. Don’t be shy, I wanna hear every thought in your head. And if I think you’re holding back? I’ll put a cock ring on you and a vibrator up your ass and see if I can make you beg in public. Got it?” Steve nodded, cheeks already flushed with lust, and Howard knelt behind him on the plush rug, hands spreading the boy wide.

He leaned in and, with a wicked smile, dove right into the action, shoving his tongue hard against the tight hole. Steve cried out and braced himself wider, hips already moving against Howard’s mouth. The man grinned and stroked his tongue over Steve quickly, like trying to lick up an ice cream cone before it melts. He was just about to remind Steve to talk when his lover’s reedy voice filled the room, the whining desperation making Howard’s cock give a valiant twitch.

“Oh, God, feels so good. Love it when you lick me open. I look like such a slut, Howie, your little slut. Bent over for you with a tongue up my ass. Want this, want it so much, but I can’t—Can’t ever just ask you for it.”

Howard pulled back to slip two fingers in his mouth, quickly drenching them before sliding them inside his lover, nipping at the meat of Steve’s ass.

“Of course you can just ask me darling, I love doing this. Love watching you come apart on my tongue. When would you ask, boy? When would you want this?”

Steve sobbed as Howard brushed lightly over his prostate, bringing his mouth back down to thrust his tongue deep inside.

“W-Would come to you, at the office, at lunch. I’d pull your blinds and stretch across your desk and ask you to eat me. Oh God, Howie, I’d love that. See you all dressed up and neat while you fuck me with your tongue.”

Howard hummed against Steve’s flesh, mentally putting the fact that Steve apparently liked him ‘all dressed up’ away for future reference. He’d already known Steve loved it when Howard came home from work and bent him over, only pushing his pants down far enough to pull his cock out. Maybe he’d make Steve’s fantasy come true one day.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, yeah, right there! Please, please make me cum. I want to, do anything for it.”

“Anything?” Howard mumbled as he used his fingers to stretch Steve’s hole wide and lick around the rim. Steve must’ve heard him because he whined and pressed backwards, thrusting his hips.

“Yeah! Yes, do anything for you Howard. Do anything to cum. I’m so desperate for it. P-Please!”

Howard drew back slightly, fucking his fingers in and out in a fast rhythm that had Steve jerking and whimpering. He yanked his fingers out only momentarily, flipping Steve around with a firm hand on either hip so that he was leaning back against the marble. Howard pushed his legs wide and reached behind him, filling his hole once again and mercilessly stroking over his prostate with firm touches.

“I wanna push your boundaries, little boy. Pump your cock until you cum, then I want you to feed it to me.”

Steve choked off a cry at the words, obediently wrapping his fist around his cock and jerking. It was only a few pumps of his wrist before he was bringing his other hand down quickly, covering the head. He writhed, coating his palm in the thick, white fluid before he settled, panting and looking between his hand and Howard uncertainly. Howard removed his hand, settling back onto his heels and letting his arms drop to the sides, giving Steve a patient look. He wanted to push, because if Steve wasn’t comfortable with this there’s no way he’d be comfortable with Howard sucking his own cum out of Steve’s loose hole. But he also wasn’t a bastard, not to Steve, and if it was something the boy truly didn’t want, then it would just remain an unfulfilled wish.

Steve inhaled sharply, seemingly reading Howard’s mind, and dropped to his knees in the space he had, legs spreading wide to fit Howard between them. He offered up his slick hand and seemed to brace himself before speaking, like he needed a moment to settle and control himself.

“You wanna lick it up, Big Daddy? Wanna taste the cum your little slut produced? You can, I promise, on one condition.”

“What’s that, sweet boy?” Howard asked, leaning forward to catch a stray drop that was about to fall from Steve’s long index finger.

His lover flushed a deep red, a color so deep Howard knew exactly what it meant. Steve only blushed that hard when he was revealing a kink, something he’d kept hidden. Howard resisted the urge to grin like a mad man. He’d figured after a year there were no more secrets between them, but damned if he was going to get mad.

“Can you…Can we…We share it? Can you share it with your little slut?” He said meekly, not meeting Howard’s eyes and the billionaire groaned, wrapping a hand around Steve’s wrist.

He tugged it towards him and motioned for Steve to freeze there. Steve complied; watching with avid eyes as Howard quickly stood and washed out his mouth, rubbing some of the wash on his face to clean it before kneeling back down in front of him. Steve had a dopey little grin on his face, no doubt at Howard’s determination to clean off, but his next word’s wiped the smile away.

“Yeah, you want that? Want Big Daddy to lick up your cum and feed it to you? Can’t wait, little slut. Here goes.”

Howard leant down and licked up as much as he could, getting most of it on his tongue before raising up and cupping Steve’s face, pulling him into a kiss. Steve moaned as Howard’s tongue slid against his, letting the cum slip from his mouth into his lover’s. They lazily kissed like that for a while, Howard simply content to enjoy the happy moans and sighs his lover emitted as they shared his cum. Eventually, Steve pulled back and licked his lips, grinning at his lover.

“That was exciting.”

“Exciting? Boy, much more ‘excitement’ and we’re not going to make it out of this house today.”

Steve laughed, a high, happy sound, and hopped up, snatching a towel from the rack as he strode into the bedroom. Howard climbed to his feet and followed after him, ignoring dressing in favor of checking why his phone was blinking green, indicating a missed alert. He thumbed it open and saw that Obi had tried to call while they were in the bathroom. Howard hit button to call him back, wiping out one ear before sticking his hands-free in and setting the phone back down on the dresser. Steve mouthed that he was going to go get the car ready, accepting both the keys and Howard’s kiss, and striding from the room just as Obi picked up.

“It’s awful early in the morning for someone of our age to be so active, Howie, are you sure it’s good for your heart?”

“Are you sure lobbing such jokes at your boss is good for your future at Stark Industries?” Howard quipped, tossing his towel in the hamper as he crossed to the massive walk-in closet.

Obi laughed in his ear as Howard grabbed a pair of light dress pants and a polo, remembering one of Steve’s offhand comment early on in the relationship that he loved seeing Howard’s forearms.

“I kid, of course. No, just checking in, making sure everything’s going alright.”

“It was. I was actually going to call you today.” Howard dressed quickly before sitting down on the edge of the bed, hearing Obi inhale sharply.

“What happened? Is Tony alright? Are you?”

“We’re fine, Obi. But Tony found out about what Maria’s doing this summer and then walked in on me screaming about why our marriage ended.”

“Oh, God. Is he alright?”

“Not…exactly.” Howard winced, running a hand through his hair. “He was reasonably mad that everyone had kept it from him. But we talked and he seemed to settle, at least for the moment. He asked if you could make time to come out, to get an outsiders view on the situation.”

“Of course. I’ll charter the Jet right now, get there tomorrow.”

“It’s not a rush, Obi, if you’re busy—“

“Howard, the kid is important to me. I’ll do anything for Tony, you know that.”

Howard chuckled a bit at the possessive tone in his oldest friend’s voice. Obi had been told very young, when they were both still in college, that he was sterile and wouldn’t have kids. At the time he’d been overjoyed, taking it so far as to almost ritualistically burn his stash of condoms, but as they grew older the man seemed to re-consider his stance on them. It was no wonder Obi had doted and spoiled Tony like he had. When he was younger it was a saving grace, Obi dropping by randomly to take Tony to amusement parks and other places he thought the boy would enjoy, getting him out of Howard’s hair for the day. He winced at the thought and heard Steve in his head.

‘ _He’s not a dog you got roped into watching for the weekend, Howard. He’s your son!’_

“Yes, if not for you Obi, Tony would be far less spoiled, I think.”

“No point in denying the boy anything, Howard. Besides, he’s got those big brown eyes. How was I supposed to say no?”

“To paying for a seven year old to swim with an Orca? Quite easily, actually.” He remarked, and Obadiah’s laugh rang through the phone, amusement and a touch of regret tingeing it.

“Maria _was_ pissed at me about that, wasn’t she?”

“No, she was angry with you, she was pissed at _me_. You didn’t have to hear a two hour lecture on ‘Why Obadiah Stane is Spoiling Tony Rotten’. I never did thank you for that experience, did I?”

“If I remember correctly, we called it even for that time you told those twin Swedish foreign exchange students I had the clap.”

Howard laughed as well at the memory. All he’d wanted was one good night’s rest, and of course it had been the night Obi had chosen to bring his own girls back to the room. If he recalled correctly, once the girls had rushed off with wide eyes, his friend had actually tried to put him out the window of their fourth floor dorm room.

“Yes, that was the deal, wasn’t it?”

“Yep. Hey, I’ll let you go, Howard. One of the secretaries wants to talk to me about something. I’ll charter the jet and text you later with the E.A.T, sound good?”

“Woah, woah, since when does Obadiah Stane cut short conversations for secretaries?”

“Since secretaries are blonde bombshells with double d’s and a propensity for both low cut shirts and leaning over my desk. Goodbye, Howard.”

He bid Obi a goodbye amidst roaring laughter, pulling the piece from his ear and standing to stick it in his pocket as Steve re-entered the room.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, as Howard linked their arms and tugged him out of the room, leading him towards where he could hear the car idling.

“Obadiah.” He answered simply, pulling open the car door and ushering Steve inside.

“Oh.Is he coming out here?” Steve asked, fiddling with the strap of his seatbelt. Howard reached over once he’d slid into his own seat and linked their fingers together.

“He is, though I _can_ still postpone it until we get back home. But, darling, if you’re worried he’ll pull me back into work I promise it’s not going to happen.” He assured and Steve grinned weakly at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“That’s what I’m worried about. Just…make sure you don’t alright?”

Howard furrowed his brows at the meek tone. Steve was hiding something…but he didn’t have a clue what. Whatever it was, he was sure Steve would let him know eventually. For the moment it was best not to push, he decided, putting the car into gear and squeezing Steve’s fingers affectionately as they drove off.

Hours later, once the sun was beginning to sink back into the horizon, painting the sky in beautiful splashes of color, Howard and Steve pulled back into the driveway. They were both fantastically full and exhausted after a day of rich island food, playing on one of the private beaches, and shopping in the outdoor markets. It was nice for once to Steve so carefree about money, buying something in at least every shop they went into. Howard unloaded the bags from the back with his help, laughing at the way Steve’s eyes widened and he stuttered when he saw just how much they had accumulated.

“I’m _so_ sorry, Howard! I didn’t mean to spend this much!”

Howard laughed and set the final pair down in the entranceway that was now jammed full of colorful bags. He strode towards Steve, backing him against the wall and pressing their bodies together from thighs to shoulders.

“I like it, darling. Spend all you want. Makes me feel good, making sure my baby doll has pretty things.” He murmured before laying a deep kiss on Steve’s lips.

The man responded instantly, tongue curling skillfully with his own. They were so wrapped up in one another they missed the footsteps until a throat was cleared behind them, separating quickly to see Bucky crouching by one of the bags, pulling out a spool of colorful fabric.

“What the hell is this thing supposed to be?” He asked, uncurling to his full height and letting it spill from his hand, the red fabric with gold hibiscuses printed on it brushing the floor as he did.

Steve pushed Howard back gently and mimed wrapping it around his hips.

“It’s a sarong. You wear them around your hips over swimsuits and whatnot.”

Bucky blinked at the fabric then back up at Steve.

“You mean _women_ wear them, Steve. Please tell me you bought this for Marta.”

“No! I’m not into gender stereotypes, Buck. Men can wear them too.” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as Tony joined them, absently chewing on a toothpick.

“What’s that?” He asked, taking it from his mouth and pointing to the length Bucky held. The soldier grinned and tossed it at him.

“Steve says you wrap it around your hips. G’head kid, try it on.”

Tony shrugged, catching the fabric and obediently wrapping it around his lean hips, confident in a way that made Howard think he’d done something similar before. Once he had it wrapped and tied neatly above one hip he shook his hips a little, the longer end swaying a couple of inches above the floor. He seemed completely comfortable in the cloth and Steve strode over to compliment how easily he’d tied it, scooping up a red, white, and blue length from a different bag, asking Tony to help him put on his own. Tony grinned at the attention and unwound his, slowly walking Steve through the steps as Bucky crossed to stand next to Howard.

“I think they’re trying to out-gay each other.” He remarked and Howard laughed, accepting the cigarette the man passed him as they watched the two dance around.

“Maybe, I think it may be a close case.”

“Hey!” Tony protested, stopping the awkward grinding and thrusting Howard knew kids his age called dancing. He raised a hand and snapped it, moving his head back and forth. “Don’t hate because you ain’t, soldier boy.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and fired back, the two going at it while Howard smoked along and Steve started moving the bags, his quickness in returning each time telling Howard he was stashing them in the living room. He finally stabbed out the cigarette in a nearby ashtray, he was beginning to think Barnes was putting them everywhere since they seemed to be multiplying, Howard took Steve’s arm and tugged him away, leaving the two bickering back and forth.

“What about dinner, baby?” Steve asked, letting Howard guide him back into the bedroom and lay him out on the bed, sarong pulling tight as he flattened out in the middle. Howard crawled up the length of his lover’s body and grinned wickedly, nipping at where his pulse pounded under a strong jawline.

“I’ve got something else I’m hungry for at the moment.” He said, letting their hips come together.

Steve arched at the feel of Howard’s erection brushing his own, a moan tumbling from his mouth.

“Y-Yeah? What sounds good?”

“Mmmm, I think I’d like you to fuck me.” Howard answered absently, shoving up Steve’s shirt and raking his teeth gently over each nipple. Steve made a soft noise and buried his fingers in Howard’s hair, pulling his head up so their eyes met.

“Really? You want me inside you?” He breathed and Howard momentarily felt bad. Steve was shocked over something so simple?

He made a mental note to have Steve do it more often, it wasn’t as if he didn’t enjoy it, anyone who’d seen what Steve was packing under his shorts would think it would be an awesome experience.

Quite rightly, he might add.

“Yeah babe, want you to stretch me out on that thick cock. Can you?” He asked, licking over Steve’s Adam’s apple as it bobbed when he swallowed hard.

Steve nodded and carefully rolled them so that he was hovering above Howard’s body, holding himself up on his forearms. Howard spread his legs, arching up and rolling their erections together once more. Steve moaned and dipped his head to kiss Howard, lazily moving against him. He could feel Steve’s apprehension and decided to take it a step further, to push yet again. In this scenario, it might pay off for the best and serve to relax Steve.

“My safeword is fondue,” he said conversationally, as Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I know that.”

“Alright then. So do what you want, take control, use me like I use you. Let me see how dirty you can get, Steve. And know that I’ll stop you if it goes too far.”

Steve swallowed hard once more and nodded, a quick dip of his head, before climbing off Howard and standing.

“I’m going to take a minute in the bathroom, okay? I’ll be back shortly?” He said, biting into his lower lip and hooking a thumb over his shoulder. Howard nodded and stretched in a languorous undulation of his body, smiling at Steve’s shiver.

“I’ll be waiting.” He said, barely waiting until the bathroom door had swung shut before quickly tearing off all his clothes and, after fishing out a container of lube from the side dresser, throwing himself into a deliberate sprawl in the middle of the bed.

Howard shoved a pillow under his lower back, raising his hips off the bed, and planted his feet wide. He spread a generous amount of slick onto his hand and moved it down to rub over his hole firmly, gasping at the pressure. No wonder Steve went so wild when Howard would spread him out and play with him, tongue and fingers working to drive him into incoherence. It felt amazing and he groaned low as he slipped a finger inside, biting his lip at the pressure. He continued this slowly, reaching down a hand to pump lazily at his cock once he’d fit three inside himself.

“Well, what have we here?”

Howard’s head came off the pillow at the sound of Steve’s lazy drawl and looked up to see him looming over the end of the bed, hands braced on the footboard. The look in his eyes was all hunger and want, and Howard shivered at the intensity on his lover’s normally placid face. He went to remove his hands when Steve shook his head, speaking as he crawled up the bed to settle, gloriously naked, between Howard’s legs.

“No, no, go ahead. I know slut’s like you can only go so long without something inside you. Did you get so hot and bothered thinking of my cock that you couldn’t help yourself? Had to stretch yourself out on your fingers?” Steve trailed one finger down the underside of his cock as he spoke, grinning darkly when it jumped at his words.

“Yes, had to. Wanted your cock so bad. Can I have it? Will you stretch me open on it? Please?” He whimpered, moving his hand off his cock when Steve rapped him sharply on the knuckles.

“You think you deserve it? Being such a bad little boy and fucking yourself. I personally think you should be punished.”

“No! Please, I’ll be good, I swear. I’m sorry, I just wanted you so badly I couldn’t help myself.”

Howard was shocked at the whiny tone that emanated from his throat, starting to understand why Steve looked so shocked at some of the things he said when the roles were reversed. It was like there was someone else controlling his voice box, someone else telling him what good boys said to their lovers. He snapped back to attention at the firm slap Steve delivered to his inner thigh, jolting and whining at the way the pain traveled from his thigh to the tip of his cock

“Tsk, tsk. You really _are_ asking for punishment, not paying attention like a naughty boy. Well, I’m going to give it to you. Take your hands and put them under the pillow behind your head.” Steve commanded and Howard eagerly complied, only distantly concerned about the lube still on his fingers.

Steve reached down and hooked his elbows under Howard’s knees, spreading him wider than he’d ever been and tugging him closer. Howard whined as Steve cupped his ass in both hands, fingers dipping in to brush over Howard’s still wet hole teasingly.

“Are you ready, slut? Ready for your punishment?”

Howard could do little else than nod furiously, before crying out as Steve hitched him higher and slid deep in one firm thrust. His husband barely gave him time to adjust before setting a brutal pace, using his grip on Howard to yank him forwards at the same time he thrust so the movements were that much more powerful. Howard immediately saw the ‘punishment’ in this position; the fact that Steve had basically lifted his entire lower half off the bed meant he could get no leverage, no counterpoint to thrust back. He was, quite literally, unable to do anything but lay back and take it.

Something in his expression must have let Steve know he’d figured it out as the man grinned widely and stopped, deep as he could go inside Howard. He tried to buck, to get Steve to start moving again, and in return for his efforts, Steve pulled out of him halfway.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Please! Please, I need your cock, need you to fuck me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll be good.” Howard babbled, only distantly shocked at his desperate behavior, the craving for Steve to fill him over-riding any shame he may have had.

“Yes, you will. This isn’t about you, slut. You’re nothing but a fucktoy for me, do you understand? Just something to pump into until I cum. I don’t care about if you cum or not.” Steve snarled and Howard grunted as the words suddenly unraveled something inside him.

For the first time in his life, and he really thought he’d experienced all his firsts by now, he came completely untouched. Steve went wide-eyed for one moment before narrowing them and snapping his hips hard, driving the full length back inside.

“You bad little boy! I didn’t tell you that you were allowed to cum!” He said, yanking away and ignoring Howard’s cry at the loss, flipping him roughly so he stretched out flat onto his belly.

Howard sobbed as Steve roughly spread his cheeks and sank deep once again, hips pumping furiously. At the noise, Steve slowed a bit and before he could break character by asking if Howard was alright, Howard started babbling into the pillow he’d shoved his face into.

“Fuck, yes! Yes, feel so thick, so good. God, Steve, want you to fuck me open, leave me dripping. Come on, do it hard, make me fucking _feel_ it.”

His words pulled a low moan from Steve and his hips started again, shoving in with rough, pounding thrusts that Howard felt all the way through his body. It only took a few more moments before Steve was screaming through gritted teeth and Howard felt a spill of warmth that sent a shiver racing up his spine. Steve came down atop him, keeping his weight braced on his forearms but pressing his chest to Howard’s back, nuzzling behind his ear softly. Howard grinned into the pillow, ready to turn and compliment him, when footsteps echoed in the hall. He felt like he was living every awkward movie scene he’d ever seen as the door swung open and Tony stepped inside, hollering over his shoulder.

“—they promised us dinner, and I’m gonna collect. Besides they wouldn’t be screwing with us right—“ Tony trailed off as his eyes landed on the two and he flushed a bright red before spinning around and letting out a sound of anguish.

“Tony—“ Howard tried, before Tony batted a blind hand behind him and went tearing down the hall, shouting.

“My dad’s the bitch! _Buuuuccckkkkyyyy_ , my dad’s not allowed to be the bitcccchhhhhh!”

“TONY, GODDAMNIT!”

Howard Stark would like it to go on record that Steve’s louds snorts of laughter as he wiggled wildly in an attempt to free himself and beat his only heir, preferably with something metal and capable of doing severe cranial damage, were most certainly not sexy nor appreciated.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> E.A.T stands for Estimated Arrival Time :)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this happy chapter! In the next couple, a lot of things are going to come to a head and it's going to be traumatic :( I apologize in advance and accept all curses and punches that are thrown.


	15. Obadiah Enters and A Nightmare Is Had

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard and Tony bear witness to the aftermath of Bucky's abuse, Obadiah arrives and something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Descriptions of someone re-living past abuse through a night terror.  
> I described it as best I could, though I've only dealt with the terrors on the opposite side of the POV. The method described in no way is the only or best method of handling such things.

Steve roused slowly the next morning, following the sounds of Howard’s voice out of dreamland and into reality. He opened his eyes to see his lover sitting on the side of the bed, speaking into his phone. He was apparently giving someone directions and once he noticed Steve, quickly disconnected the call. Howard stretched out beside him and planted a playful kiss on his nose. Steve knew instantly who was on the phone and felt his gut clench in self-preservation.

“Obadiah’s here?”

“Yeah, he got in about a half hour ago, he’s on his way to the house now. Sweetheart, I swear, no business.” Howard looked half panicked and Steve couldn’t help but brush a slow kiss across his lips.

It wasn’t Howard’s fault his best friend gave Steve the heebie-jeebies no more than it was Steve’s fault that Bucky lived to torment Howard. He stretched against the sheets and hauled himself out of the bed. The house was unusually quiet, especially for seven in the morning, and Steve was just about to make a joke that Bucky was slipping off military training when a hoarse scream broke the silence of the house. Steve’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach at the sound, taking off out the door with Howard hot on his heels. He skidded into the doorway of Bucky’s room to see Tony backing away from Bucky’s bed with his hands up and his face white. On the bed, Bucky was twisting and turning, alternating between whimpering like a wounded animal and screaming like a banshee.

“What did you do?” Howard shouted at Tony over Bucky’s thrashing, while Steve made his way closer, thinking about how to best approach the man who was quite clearly in the throes of a nightmare.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear! I just came in to get him for breakfast and when I touched his shoulder to shake him awake, he flipped!”

Steve held up a hand for them both to be quiet before settling on the chest at the foot of Bucky’s bed, crossing his legs and relaxing before trying to speak.

“Bucky, it’s Steve. You need to come out of this now. You’re not where you think you are.”

The reedy voice of his best friend made tears well up in Steve’s eyes, and the words he uttered hurt so bad Steve was sure if he looked down he’d see his chest torn wide open.

“No! Daddy, please, no….I’ll be good…don’t hit me, Daddy, please…”

He saw both Tony and Howard freeze dead at the words out of the corner of his eye and ignored them in favor of speaking to the man.

“He’s gone now, Bucky. He can’t hurt you anymore. You need to come out of this. You’re strong now, you’re a soldier. You’re not that scared little boy.”

“Daddy…no, please…I’ll be good, see? See how good I can be? I can do it, Daddy, I can take it. Can take it all.”

Steve swallowed back the bile that rose at the way Bucky went suddenly still, spreading his legs wide and gripping onto the sheets. He was deep into it this time, completely lost in the memories, the simple nightmare shifting into a night terror. This had only happened once before and after Steve had gotten him through it they’d clung to each other and sobbed for an hour.

Steve saw Tony take a step forward and whipped his head around to warn the boy to be quiet, but before he could speak, Tony had already done so.

“Hey, Bucky, it’s Tony. Come on home, you’re okay.”

“TONY!” Bucky burst out, thrashing once more, one arm thrown out to the opposite side where everyone stood, reaching for someone who wasn’t there.

“Tony, you got-gotta get outta here. Hurry, Tony, he’ll get you t-too. If he sees you—if he sees you, I’m a b-bad boy and he’ll call Uncle J-John. Please, go!” Tony’s face crumpled at the words and Howard reached out, drawing him back as tears began to streak down his face.

Steve looked at Howard helplessly while his friend still thrashed and writhed, calling out for him, and his mom, and even for his own grandfather who had passed right before the abuse had started. Howard squared his shoulders and took a step forward, bracing himself before speaking in a low, soothing tone Steve had never heard him use before.

“Hey, Bucky, buddy. Hey, can you hear me?”

Bucky calmed a bit and Steve frantically motioned for Howard to continue.

“Bucky, hey, it’s Howard. You know who I am?”

“H-Howard?”

“Yeah, buddy, that’s right. You know who I am, right? Rich boozehound bastard?”

“Powerful. Can hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah, power can hurt but you know what else power can do? Protect. I can protect you Buck. Make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

Bucky was fully still by this point, still semi-out-of-it going by the twitching under his eyelids but he was surfacing quickly with Howard’s steady even tones. Steve nodded when Howard looked like he was going to step closer, prompting the man to move until he was barely a foot away from the bed.

“Protect me? Send Daddy away?”

“Oh, yeah, send him away forever. And your uncle too. Make sure they never get to hurt anyone else again.”

The words seemed to break the spell that had trapped Bucky under and he came awake with a gasp, jackknifing up in bed. He was panting and covered in sweat as his eyes wildly bounced from person to person, from Steve to Tony to finally land and stick on Howard. He reached out with a wrenching sob, grabbing ahold of Howard’s shirt and yanking him close to bury his head in the fabric like a child would. Howard started like he’d been hit but rested gentle hands on Bucky’s shoulders and murmured softly to him until those shoulders stopped shaking.

“S-Steve?”

Steve looked around to see Tony hugging himself tightly next to him and opened his arms, letting the boy throw himself into them. He let his tears fall into Tony’s hair while the kid sobbed against his shirt and for a moment, the misery and anguish in the room was so thick he was afraid he would choke. Around the same time Bucky pulled back with a harsh sniff, Tony and Steve were settling as well, separating slowly as if giving the other the option to latch back on at any moment. They finally separated for good once Bucky threw himself back on the bed, reaching for his pack of cigarettes and lighting one with shaking hands.

Howard nodded sharply at the scene and turned to stride from the room, calling over his shoulder.

“I’ll order out for breakfast. Give you guys a shout when it’s ready.”

Steve wanted to chase after the man and hug him as more tension seeped from Bucky’s shoulders. He’d learned early on dwelling on the terror flashbacks sometimes made them worse, and the best thing Howard could have done in that moment was exactly what he _had_ done. However, there was still the matter of Tony, who was standing clutching himself tightly, watching Bucky with black eyes. Bucky stabbed out the cigarette before opening his arms in silent invitation and Steve respectfully turned his head when Tony, after a moment’s hesitation, threw himself into them, sobbing apologies into Bucky’s chest. Once Bucky’s quiet shushing’s had silenced the cries, Steve turned back to see that Tony was curled next to Bucky with his forehead resting against the star on Bucky’s bicep.

His eyes were drifting shut almost unwillingly, and Bucky, with a quick look at Steve, dropped a kiss onto his forehead. Bucky gave the quick order to go back to sleep, which Tony obeyed instantly with one hand curling around something beneath his sleep shirt to soothe him, before grabbing his things off the bedside table and ushering Steve into the hallway. He pulled the door shut behind him and turned to hug Steve tightly, accepting the hard hold Steve locked onto him with as well.

“That was bad,” Steve whispered brokenly and he felt Bucky nod against his shoulder. They separated slowly, just as he and Tony had done and neither spoke again until they were out sitting by the fire pit once again.

“Thanks for trying, Steve. If I know you, you sat there and talked to me even if it didn’t work.”

“Don’t thank me, we’re friends. I’m just glad Howard was able to pull you outta it.”

Bucky let loose a rough laugh, the sound scraping over raw vocal cords. Steve made a note to make him some tea with honey in it for breakfast.

“Right? Who’dda thought that cold bastard could sound so caring.”

Steve smiled mutely while Bucky lit another cigarette, before cautiously broaching the topic they’d both been dancing around.

“You haven’t had one of those that bad in a while. Not that I know of, at least.”

“Nope. Last time was that night when we were sixteen, remember? After the Sadie Hawkins dance?”

Steve nodded and swallowed against the lump in his throat. Bucky had been shaking and had vomited a couple times after he’d woken up, babbling to Steve about how he thought it was the fact that he’d had sex and oh, god, what if that cocksucking motherfucker came back everytime Bucky tried to get laid? That night had been long and they’d finally passed out around 4 in the morning, curled in matching fetal positions with their hands tangled and their knees and foreheads pressed together. Steve’s mom had snapped a picture when she had come in to wake them for breakfast, choosing to let them sleep instead. It was her favorite picture of what she called her ‘two sons’ and neither Steve nor Bucky had the heart to tell her about what had brought the occasion on.

“So why now? Do you know or—“

“Oh, I know. And it’s stupid.”

“Can’t be too stupid.” Steve argued and Bucky shrugged, drawing deeply and pointedly not looking at him as he spoke, smoke curling out of his mouth while he shaped his words.

“Tony’s been aggressive with the whole ‘fuck me’ shit. I’m not scared of him, I can break the kid in half, and it’s not like I’m not crazy attracted to him. But it’s dredging up shit, y’know? The contrast?”

“He wants it and you didn’t.” Steve whispered and Bucky tapped his nose, indicating Steve’s correctness.

“Maybe you should talk to Tony?”

“About Maria?”

Steve nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sound of Obadiah’s sudden voice and whipped around to see the man striding towards them from the shadows of the house. Bucky quickly reached for his thigh, for a gun that was no longer there, Steve realized with a jolt, before smiling tightly at the older man. Steve searched his face desperately, seeing if there was any indication that showed he’d over-heard something he wasn’t supposed to, but his face was clear, the picture of innocence.

“Sorry, what?”

Obadiah paused a few feet from them, hands in his pockets.

“I thought you were talking about the Maria situation. Was I wrong?”

“No,” Bucky cut in, giving Steve a look. It was plainly obvious he didn’t trust the man either and Steve felt a swell of relief that it apparently wasn’t all in his head. “You’re right. Trying to figure out how to help the kid out.”

The older man nodded and held a hand out, one that Bucky shook without pause. Steve was proud that Bucky’s hand didn’t shake in the slightest as he held on, his determination over-riding any unease he may have felt about touching the man.

“I’m glad to hear he’s got people willing to lend a hand. Obadiah Stane, Howard’s business partner.”

“Bucky Barnes, nice to meet ya.”

“Ah, yes,” Obadiah murmured, retracting his hand and looking between them. “Steve mentioned you in passing back at the house. A soldier. Thank you for your service.”

Bucky shrugged and reached for another cigarette when a cry of Obadiah’s name had them turning to see Tony sprinting from the house and throwing himself at the man. Steve was tempted to ask for one of his own from Buck, carefully watching just how low on Tony’s back Obadiah placed his hands, when Howard emerging from the house interrupted it.

“Obi! How’d you sneak past me?”

“You were so into that cup of coffee, Howard, interrupting would have been like walking in on you and Steve. I figured better to not risk coming between your obvious love affair.” The man remarked, sharing a laugh between the three while he and Bucky sat silently.

“So,” Tony started, looking up at Obadiah who held up a hand between them.

“No. Not until we get breakfast, Tony. Then you can pick my brain all you want. Fair?”

Tony nodded and they all trudged inside to where Howard had put everything that’d been delivered on the island. It was quite a spread and despite the company, Steve’s stomach gave a hungry howl at the delicious smells emanating from the boxes. They dug in, Steve and Bucky surrounding Tony so that Obadiah was forced to the other side of the table. Having him near Howard wasn’t much better in Steve’s eyes, but the sight of their brushes against one another as they ate didn’t make him want to throw up. Not as much as it would have had it been Tony.

Speaking of the boy, Bucky looked about ready to kill him as he kept chatting animatedly with Obadiah, flinging his fork around as he did and almost nailing Bucky with it a few times. He chuckled into his coffee cup when Bucky had enough and they tussled over it for a moment, Bucky trying to pry it away and Tony doing his best to hang on. Tony won, though Steve was sure it was only because Bucky allowed it, and he victoriously ran his tongue up the length of the thing.

“Touch it now, Barnes.” He challenged and Steve almost laughed, before he caught the look on Obadiah’s face.

The man was staring at them both, like he was trying to figure out a math problem, but the dilation of his pupils when Tony had pulled his stunt made Steve want to wrap the boy in a quilt and hide him away somewhere. He seemed to be the only one who noticed, and went silent for the rest of the meal. Howard must have sensed the change because he reached over near the end and grasping his hand, squeezing it with a smile. Steve smiled weakly back before the meal ended, almost running after Bucky who stepped out immediately for a smoke.

“That guy,” Bucky started hotly, as Steve pulled his own from the pack.

“Right? I don’t like it. I really don’t.”

“We’ve got no grounds. That’s one thing I always fucking heard. No evidence, no arrest.”

Steve shook his head and drew deeply, pasting on a smile when the other three strode outside to join them, talking amongst themselves. He was at least happy to see that having Obadiah around seemed to make Howard and Tony less likely to snark at each other, though that also could have been because they both seemed shaken from this morning. They weren’t the only ones, he mused, watching how Bucky neatly avoided Howard’s eyes, as did the older man. A part of him wanted to club them both for being so dense, but another part understood that was how they would both get past it. Fake it until you make it, or something like that.

“So, what’s on the agenda for you all today?” Obadiah asked, settling in a chair as Howard crossed to sit next to him, linking their hands.

“Talking about my bitch of a mother.” Tony said offhand, causing a silence to fall over them that was broken by Howard.

“Tony, watch your mouth.”

“Why? It’s not like it matters.”

“It does matter, she’s still your mother and she loves you.”

“Bullshit!”

No, Tony,” Obadiah cut in, looking between the two. “Maria does. She always did.”

“Then why in the hell is she off with some guy and lying to me about it?!”

“Did Howard tell you he was dating Steve?” Obadiah asked and Steve felt the irresistible urge to punch the man when Tony turned angry eyes on them.

“No.” He answered shortly, and Steve felt Howard tense next to him at the dirty look.

“It’s not any of your business who your parents date, Tony. Not until it becomes serious enough.”

“But it became serious with you two and I still didn’t hear shit.”

“Alright!” Obadiah said, waving his hands in the air. “This topic seems a bit tense. Howard, why don’t you and the boys go for a walk on the beach? Maybe Tony and I should discuss this alone for a little bit. Lessen the chance of fists flying, right?”

_No!_ Steve wanted to shout, looking at Howard desperately, but the man was already nodding and standing.

“Not a bad idea, Obi. Steve, Bucky, c’mon, there’s a shop on the boardwalk I need to duck into anyways.” He said, and Bucky and Steve exchanged looks before climbing to their feet uneasily. As they trudged down the path and towards the beach, Steve kept shooting looks over his shoulder, stopping dead when he saw Obi lead Tony into the house, the younger boy chatting animatedly.

Howard paused and looked over his shoulder at them, Bucky having stopped right along beside Steve.

“Everything alright, you two?” He asked, and Steve nodded tightly, nudging Bucky to continue on, ignoring the roiling tension in his gut.

They got halfway down the beach before Steve’s throat seized up, a sense of dread over-taking his common sense and an adrenal rush out of nowhere stopping him cold. He had to get back to the house, no matter what it took. Something was wrong. Steve made a half-heartedly choked noise before turning and pounding back down the beach, heart racing.

Something was wrong.

Something was very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't....I...I'm sorry. In advance, I am sorry. Everything got so angsty so fast.


	16. Trust Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's trust is broken, as is Howard's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Rape is defined as any act of sexual intercourse that is forced upon a person, not specified to what act. Therefore, rape is rape, and this is rape. This is non-consensual, this is not roleplay, this is not okay.   
> ALSO TRIGGER: Victim self-blaming, mentions of suicidal thoughts, heavy implications of childhood molestation, explicit violence.   
> This chapter is not okay. This chapter is not fun. But this chapter is the natural progression of the story. OP I am sorry for what I have done, and I owe you any happy cheery story you want in return.   
> But remember, this story is about building bridges. And those bridges can always be re-built. Not in some cases, but in others. The end is not nigh because the darkness has come. Have faith in me, people, I will fix this.

Tony threw himself across his bed with a sigh, looking up at Obi who settled on the edge. The man’s face was as familiar to him as his own, and it was twisted in concern as he looked down at him.

“So, you found out, huh?” Obi asked, placing a hand on his knee as he curled up into a sitting position.

“Yeah. I mean, what the hell, Obi? Mom’s a whore, whatever, so what, that’s her choice. But you didn’t tell me?! You knew and we were together alone how many times and you never thought to mention it?” He demanded and Obadiah sighed, rubbing slow circles with his thumb on the outside of Tony’s knee.

“Tony, it wasn’t my place. Howard asked me to keep it a secret and I did.”

“If he asked you to jump off a bridge, would you?”

“If it meant keeping you safe and letting you grow up without knowing your mother slept around on your dad? Yes.”

“Why didn’t he just divorce her? Why didn’t you tell him to just divorce her the second he found her cheating the first time?”

“Because you were a baby, Tony. And you needed both your parents. We cared about you, all of us. Howard and Maria stayed together because of you, and I kept visiting the woman who was cheating on my best friend because of you.”

“You obviously don’t care about me all that much, if you were so willing to hide something like that from me.” Tony huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

He blinked at the sudden warmth on his cheek before the pain set in and he cried out, bringing a hand up to the cheek Obadiah had landed the slap on.

“Obi!”

“Shut your mouth, Tony. I cared about you more than your father or mother ever did. I still do.” Obadiah hissed and Tony let his head fall down, ashamed.

How in the world could he accuse Obi of not caring? The man had taken him so many places when he was younger, gone through so much with him that his parents should have. Granted, when Tony tried to remember details they were always fuzzy, but he could always remember Obi being there with him. An arm slid around his shoulders and tugged him into the man’s warmth, rubbing up and down his arm.

“I worry about you, Tony. You should know that. Now, what else would you like to know about Maria?”

Tony shrugged and rubbed at his cheek absently. At this point he was honestly so strung out from the morning and finding out the truth he didn’t want to talk about much. He’d assumed it would take Obi longer than it had to get here and that he would have a few days to settle, collect his thoughts.

“Alright, then I’ve got a question for you.” He stated and Tony tensed when he felt Obi’s finger slip under his collar, pulling out the tags slowly, letting them drop to his chest.

“Who’s tags?”

Tony’s mind raced with lies he could spit out before he mentally shook himself. This was Obadiah! The same guy who had rented out an entire sea world exhibit because he’d said he wanted to swim with the whale! He couldn’t lie to him. Besides, Obi wouldn’t do anything, not if Tony asked him not to.

“They’re Bucky’s.” He mumbled and Obi twisted them between his fingers for a moment before he spoke again.

“Steve’s soldier friend? Now why in the world do you have his dog tags, Tony?”

“He..ah…that is…he and I…we’re together. Or at least, we will be, once I’m legal. We fool around and stuff, but he’s waiting to have sex until I’m seventeen. I really like him Obi, he’s the kind of guy I’d want to marry, y’know?”

Tony heaved a sigh after his babbling and, inhaling to tell Obi more, uttered a choked sound when the tags suddenly drew tight around his throat. He gasped and looked at Obi, who had them wrapped around his fist, pulling them tight against his Adams apple. The man’s whole face was contorted in rage and as they locked eyes he brought his other hand up to roughly cup Tony’s jaw, pulling their faces close.

“What happened to wanting to marry me, Tony?” He asked tauntingly, and Tony stared dumbfounded before a memory hit him from out of nowhere.

Obi’s hot tub, he was about eight or so, it was closely after his parents had divorced. Obi had him sitting on his lap, running hands up and down his thighs. He’d sighed and told Obi he was gonna marry him one day because they wouldn’t get a divorce because Obi was so nice to him. It’d been a child’s promise, something foolish, but apparently Obi had taken it seriously?

“Obi,” he choked out, pleading with the man through his eyes. “Obi, it was a joke. I was a kid. What the hell are you doing?”

The words only seemed to enrage the man further and as he fisted a hand in Tony’s hair, dragging him off the bed to kneel in front of him, Ton wondered how in the hell the man had gone so quickly from his trusted god-father to a violent stranger.

“A joke?” He sneered, gripping tighter at Tony’s whine of pain, slapping one hand across his face once again. “That’s all I ever am to you Stark’s, isn’t it? Howard would fuck every hole that would let him but his best friend? Oh, no, we’re _just_ friends. I couldn’t do anything about him, but you? With you I can just _take_ what I want.”

Tony had only a moment to realize exactly what Obi had meant by that before the man was standing, one hand going to the button on his shorts. He thrashed against his hold, ignoring the fierce pain from his scalp, and had almost shaken him free when Obadiah tilted his head so far back his spine bowed, staring into his eyes as he shoved down his pants.

“You realize you can either do this, or I can report your little ‘friend’ to the cops. You’re underage; it’s illegal even if _you’re_ being the slut that’s chasing after _his_ cock. Even if he didn’t get arrested for fucking around with Howard Stark’s heir, he’s a soldier. He’d lose all his credibility so fast; they’d blacklist him and kick him out on his ass before he could even open his mouth. So that’s the deal, Tony. You can either be the good little cocksucker I know you are, or I can ruin your little boyfriend’s life.”

Tony bit his lip and shut his eyes as cold shame washed over him. He had to, he had to do this. Bucky wasn’t the aggressor, he was. He didn’t deserve to be punished just because Tony had picked him to shove all his attraction onto. He opened his eyes once more and nodded, gagging around the thick length that was shoved almost immediately into his mouth. Obadiah groaned above him and began to mindlessly fuck his throat, ignoring Tony’s chokes and gags, as well as the tears that ran down his face. Tony had almost let himself go, almost disconnected his mind from his body like his pal who was into yoga had taught him, when Obadiah spoke, tearing him back into reality.

“Knew you’d be amazing at this, Tony. So good. I imagined doing this when you were younger, sitting on my lap, wiggling around like the slut I knew you were. Just teasing me and practically begging me to fuck you. I could only get a small taste then, only a little every so often. This is the real deal.”

Tony sobbed as memories poured in once again, somehow untapped by the situation. The hot tub _, always_ the fucking hot tub, Obi settling him on his lap and rocking against him, telling him it was a fucking game. See if Tony could cut it as a cowboy. God, the bastard had been fucking humping him and he’d just taken it! Maybe Obadiah was right, maybe he was just a slut, even as a kid.

“The best fucking thing out there, save for maybe fucking Howard. You look so much like him, you little whore. If the hair were different I could almost imagine it’s him I’m choking with my cock. Hmm, maybe when I screw that tight, little ass later, I’ll put you face down, pretend it really is your Daddy I’m tearing apart with my dick.”

Tony felt his body start to go numb as the reality of the situation sank in. He was being raped, getting his throat fucked raw, and he _still_ wasn’t good enough. Someone was still wishing he was someone else. It was like everyone he’d ever had all over again; I wish you were better at X, or why can’t you do that tongue thing like Y can, or why would I have sex with you when I can do it with Z. He let himself go limp, barely choking anymore as Obadiah battered at the back of his throat. Maybe, if he at least could sit still— _Like a good boy, Tony. Good boys sit still and shut the hell up—_ maybe he could at least get Obi off. Maybe he’d be worth something then. _Not worth a damn thing, Tony! I told you a hundred times to stay out of my lab! Look at what you did!_

**Worthless.**

**Unwanted.**

**Pathetic.**

_Kid._

**Slut.**

_Little shit._

**Annoying.**

_Now run along and go play in your sandbox while the grown-ups talk._

Tony squeezed his eyes shut tightly, feeling his heart crack and shatter in his chest. Oh, God, he’d been deluding himself. Bucky didn’t really want him, no matter what he said. He was just playing along with Tony’s fantasy, like an adult who pretended to answer a toddler’s toy phone. He didn’t care about him, didn’t want him. Who would?

**Broken.**

**Defective.**

**Throw-away.**

**No one could ever love you.**

**Even your own parents can’t stand you.**

**WorthlessStupidNoGoodBadIdiotMoronSlutWhoreCumbucketTrampBrokenDefectiveFoolish.**

Obadiah yanked back suddenly, bringing Tony out of the spiral and he barely had time to close eyes before hot spurts were covering his face, dripping thickly down his cheeks. He resisted the urge to gag and fell to the floor the moment Obi let go of his hair, curling into a ball, covering his head with his hands. Tony didn’t even bother to wipe off the cum, sobbing so hard he could barely breathe, let alone move.

He heard the pounding of footsteps in the hall and figured it was only a figment of his imagination, blind hope of a rescue creating auditory illusions, when he heard the door bang open. Tony heard a scream before the heavy crash of bodies hitting one another sounded and he pushed himself up, adrenaline rushing from nowhere, gasping at the sight.

Steve. It was Steve!

And he was beating the holy hell out of Obadiah.

He’d pinned him against the bed with a knee on his chest and was wailing on his face, the arms Obi had raised useless against him as he screamed curses at the man. More footsteps sounded and Tony turned from sight of Steve’s, now blood covered, fists flying to see Bucky and his dad slide to a stop outside the door. They both gasped, Howard rushed to him, shouting at Bucky to pull Steve off of Obadiah. Bucky complied, straining against his friend’s raging body, while Howard pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and tilted Tony’s face up, wiping it off with shaking hands. He didn’t realize the drops on his face weren’t his own until he looked up to see tears dripping from his father’s eyes, landing on his cheeks. Once he’d cleared everything off, Howard stood and stroked a hand over his face, brushing off any wetness before he strode to where Obadiah had curled on the bed, trying and failing to staunch the massive amount of blood pouring from his nose and mouth.

“Obadiah. What the fuck did you do to my son.”

Tony had never heard such rage in his father’s voice before, not even when he’d pulled some of his stupidest stunts. Obadiah looked up at him before shooting his eyes over to where Bucky was still holding Steve against the wall, the tension in both men’s bodies suggesting if Bucky loosened his grip even slightly, Steve was going to be right back at it.

“You have to understand, Howard. I was only trying to teach him a lesson—“

“A lesson?! Teaching him a lesson by rape?! About what; how to not fucking trust people?” Howard snarled and Obadiah shook his head quickly, pointing a finger at Bucky.

“No! Howard, they’re fucking! If you should be mad at anyone, be mad at the man taking advantage of your child.”

The entire room stilled in that very instant, the tension becoming so thick you could cut it. Howard glanced over at Bucky, the shards of glass that were his eyes sharpening into ice, before he glanced back at Obadiah.

“Get out, Obadiah. And be glad I’m only going to murder you socially and financially, not physically like I’m tempted to let Steve do.”

Obadiah scrambled away at his words, running quickly for someone who’d lost as much blood as he had. Once they heard the front door slam they all sagged, save for Howard who stayed in place, looking at the massive bloodstain on Tony’s comforter. Bucky let Steve go slowly, as if he was afraid he would still go after Obadiah. The tension in Steve’s expression said the concern wasn’t too far-fetched. They all stood there for a moment, no one willing to break the heavy silence, until Howard’s flat voice did.

“Are you fucking my son?”

Bucky straightened imperceptibly, looking nowhere else but the strict set of Howard’s shoulders as he answered.

“Yes.”

“No!” Tony protested, glaring at Bucky as Howard whirled to face him. “Dad, no! We’re not fucking, Bucky won’t until I’m legal. We’ve kissed but that’s—“

“Phone sex.”

Tony gaped at Bucky, whose words were as flat as Howard’s face when he turned to lock eyes the man.

“I’m sorry?”

“I made your son cum. With words, not hands or tongue, but nonetheless.”

Howard nodded shortly before delivering a punch straight to Bucky’s jaw, knocking the man back a few feet. His face never changed, nor did his tone as he spoke, striding towards the door.

“We’re all going home. Tomorrow morning, first thing. Tony, take the room next door. Steve, I’ll move my things to the couch.”

Steve nodded at the floor at his words, face flushed with shame and blood-covered fists still clenched at his sides. _Why in the hell was he being punished?_ Tony wondered, climbing to his feet and catching his dad’s attention.

“Dad, Steve didn’t do anything—“

The sharp crack of Howard’s fist crashing against the doorframe cut off the rest of his words and he addressed the hall when he spoke.

“He brought that man into my home, into _our_ home, near you. He did _everything_.”

With those words, he was gone, his footsteps barely making noise down the hall. Tony winced at Steve’s choked inhale, opening his mouth to say something, anything, when Steve held up a hand, shaking his head. He left the room silently, leaving only Bucky, Tony, and the remnants of a monster.

Tony shuffled his feet and looked down at the floor, only distantly aware Bucky was moving until a gentle hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up into Bucky’s dark eyes, half-wild with memories, and lingered on the dark spot on his jaw that would be one hell of a bruise.

“C’mon, let’s get you into the shower.” He said gruffly, and Tony instantly became aware of just how _filthy_ he felt. Like he’d somehow gotten the dirt inside him, and it was slowly spreading, covering everything he was.

He nodded numbly, letting Bucky guide him out of the room and into the one next door, only momentarily glimpsing the heartbreaking scene of Steve standing dejectedly just outside the doorway of his room while Howard gathered things up inside. Tony let out a soft sound, one that Bucky either didn’t hear or chose to ignore as he guided him into the room he’d be using, leaving him right outside the bathroom door before grabbing a sheet and entering it. Once he called for him to come in, Tony saw he’d hung the sheet over the large mirror above the sink and was instantly grateful. If he’d seen what he looked like right now, he’d have probably just hung himself from one of the showerheads.

“I’ll stick around until you’re done, make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

The thought that Bucky was amazingly perceptive crossed his mind before the cold, hard truth slammed down like a mallet. Bucky wasn’t perceptive, Bucky was _experienced_. He knew what it was like to feel filthy, to feel worthless, to look at a showerhead and take a guess as to whether it would support his weight. Tony stripped quickly, Bucky’s eyes downcast as he did, and climbed in, turning the water so hot it instantly turned his skin bright red. By the time he felt like he was almost normal again, almost not so filthy, every piece of his body was raw and sensitive from the combination of the hot water and the fierce scrubbing Tony had done. He stepped out and accepted the towel Bucky handed him without looking.

“Thank you.”

“Thank me once I _don’t_ manage to fuck everything up. Sleep, Tony. People think curling into a ball helps, but spread out. Works better, you feel bigger.”

Tony nodded at the low voice, wincing at the use of his name once Bucky had strode away. He wasn’t kid anymore, or punk, he was Tony. His best friend’s husband’s son. No more familiar or close than the barista at the coffee shop you visited every morning. You’d make small talk, smile politely, but once your transaction was finished, you had nothing more to do with one another. Tony trudged to his closet, giving up on getting dressed once bile rose in his throat for the third time at the caress of the sleep shirt against his shoulders. He flung himself under the covers nude, pulling the blanket tight around him before stretching out like Bucky had said, finding he did feel a bit better.

Tony went to turn over when a sudden pressure at his throat caused him to freeze dead before his hand scrambled to find the constriction.

The dog tags.

Tony tore them off his neck and went to throw them across the room, hesitating at the last moment, looking at their glint in the moonlight. These were the reason he had gotten raped, they’d been the catalyst. But as Tony held the one piece he’d probably ever see of Bucky again after tomorrow in his hands, he couldn’t make himself throw them away. A dam broke inside at the knowledge and he pulled his hands close to his chest, curling around the tags and sobbing until he passed out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll fix it. I swear. I'm sorry. The next chapter will be Steve's POV and it will begin the road to healing.


	17. Road To Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath, Steve and Howard bond over a memory, and Tony and Bucky make decisions about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're on the road to recovery here. I'm going to cover all the relationships between the four, since they all took a pretty big hit. Let's hope I do the recovery justice, and as always I hope you enjoy!

Steve distantly heard the clock in the living room chime out three in the morning as he lay where he’d been for the last few hours; curled on Howard’s side of the bed and watching bruises slowly form on his hands. His chest was an aching pit of pain and he’d been up five different times to check on Tony, always finding the boy curled in the same position. He’d passed Bucky twice and Howard only once, in which he’d avoided the older man’s gaze, striding back to his room like he was being chased. Steve swallowed hard, wincing at the dry scratch, remembering the dead tone in Howard’s voice when he’d spoken. He’d ruined everything with this stupid vacation, and now Steve wasn’t even sure if he still had a husband.

Shaking his head, he climbed from the bed and padded into the hall, peeking in to see Tony still curled up, blankets over him rising and falling evenly. Satisfied that the boy was okay, he closed the door and started towards the kitchen, intent to get something to soothe the ache in his throat. He stepped into the kitchen and flipped the light on, freezing at the scene that met him. Howard looked up from his place at the island, his eyes flat and dull, before pouring more of the whiskey that sat at his elbow into his tumbler.

“You alright?”

The words made Steve freeze from where he’d crossed to pull open the fridge, content to let Howard ignore him. He answered the tub of butter in front of him when he spoke, scared turning to face the man would cut short the moment.

“No. No, I’m not alright.”

He heard Howard sigh and clenched his eyes shut, figuring he’d soon hear the echo of Howard striding away once again. Instead, to his shock, a hand pushed the door out of his grip and shut it, before another laid gently on his hip. He whimpered at the pressure, turning slowly like he could still ruin all of this with too fast a motion.

Once they stood face to face, Steve was able to get a true look at his lover’s eyes and was shocked at the sight. They weren’t flat or dull at all. No, they were rolling like the water during a shark attack, all wild promises and dark intentions. Howard was still furiously angry, and yet none seemed directed at him, for the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered, blinking at Howard’s harsh laugh and the way he scrubbed his hands over his face as he stepped back.

“You’re sorry? You didn’t make your child’s rapist his step-father and the goddamn CFO of your company. I’m going to guess _this_ is why you never liked being around that bastard.”

“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I could have avoided all of this. And as for Bucky—“

Howard’s grunt cut him off and the man shook his head, drinking deeply from his cup, tilting it towards Steve once he was done. He shook his head, as much as Steve wanted to drink in an attempt to dull the pain, the whiskey burn wouldn’t feel too swell on his throat.

“You know what’s funny? I’ve been up, and I’ve been thinking. And that army fuck is just about the only person I’d actually trust with Tony. I’ve passed him about six times going to check on the kid and each time he looks me in the eye and lets his arms fall to the sides. It’s like he’s telling me I could punch him every single time and he wouldn’t stop me.”

“He wouldn’t,” Steve whispered, pulling a water bottle from the fridge and fidgeting with it. “Bucky would let you hit him again and again and again.”

“Did you know?”

Steve considered playing dumb, it wouldn’t be that hard of a stretch to think that he wasn’t aware. But enough lies and falsehoods had been thrown around the past few days. He wasn’t going to add to the ridiculously high number.

“Yes.”

“When you two pulled over on the way to the Jet?”

“Yes.”

Both Howard and Steve turned at the new voice, spotting Bucky standing in the doorway of the kitchen. He looked like hell, as Steve was sure they all did, black circles under his eyes, a pale pallor, and a nasty bruise spreading up his jaw that Steve was sure would only get worse. Howard cursed and threw back the two fingers worth left in his glass, pouring more. Steve caught Bucky’s eye as the man crossed to stand next to him, apologizing and accepting an apology in turn.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why in the hell would you of all people fuck around with an underage kid?” Howard demanded, anger still present in the lines of his body, but he passed Bucky the whiskey when he reached a hand for it. Bucky took a swallow straight from the bottle before answering, swallowing hard.

“Look, Stark, it wasn’t my intention. I didn’t meet the kid and decide I wanted him. Truth be told, Tony’s been the aggressor. But I don’t mind, I didn’t mind, so I let it go on which makes it all still my fault because as the adult—“

“You should have stopped him.”

Bucky nodded at the way Howard finished the sentence, fingers rubbing against one pocket of his shorts like he was itching for a cigarette. Steve felt the ache in his chest intensify as Howard shook his head, looking between the pair of them. The same man who had once thought he hung the moon and stars was now looking at him like he had no idea what to do with him, like a puppy who’d been dropped on someone’s front step. Howard laughed, a dry sound, and spoke into his glass.

“I shouldn’t be surprised. Tony’s always been aggressive after he finds something he wants. Look, Barnes, I’m not going to say I’m not pissed, nor am I going to tell you I’ll give Tony away at the wedding. But right now, as shitty as it sounds, he needs someone like you. Someone who’s gone through what he has, knows how to cope. I’m not throwing you out on your ass, but you listen to me and you listen well, if I so much as hear you laid a finger on Tony that he didn’t explicitly ask for before he turns seventeen, Steve’s friend or not, I will call up the same person who’s going to kill Obadiah and tell him it’s a two-fer.”

Bucky nodded sharply at Howard’s words, holding out his hand to the older man and shaking it firmly before setting the whiskey bottle back down, striding out of the room. The creak of a door down the hall clued Steve in that Bucky was checking on Tony and he searched Howard’s face for any sign of anger or disgust at the action.

To his surprise, Howard locked eyes with him, and the only emotion in their depths was regret. He stepped back at the wave of longing that hit him, wanting nothing more than to cross and take Howard into his arms. But the man’s spine was still ramrod straight and Steve wasn’t completely sure he wouldn’t get socked in the jaw for trying. Instead, he inclined his head to his lover and walked slowly back down the hall, sticking his head in Tony’s door as he passed, smiling at the way the boy had finally uncurled and was starfish-ed in the middle of the bed, hand clutching something tight to his chest.

Steve drank half of the bottle, setting it on his nightstand just as the clock chimed for the thirty minute mark. Curling up once again with his face buried in sheets that still smelled like his husband, he was so pre-occupied with trying not to let the tears that welled up spill down his cheeks, he missed the opening of the bedroom door completely, only registering a presence when Howard spoke from next to him.

“That couch isn’t particularly comfortable.”

Steve flipped onto his back to see Howard standing there awkwardly, shifting his weight and staring down at Steve with a glint of hope in his eyes. He huffed out a laugh through the ball in his throat and wiped a hand over his eyes, scooting over in the bed, settling very still when Howard slid in next to him, like the man was a deer he could startle if he wasn’t careful.

“Well, even the best couch can’t compare to a bed.”

“Especially not when the bed has you.”

His head whipped around and he stared at Howard in disbelief. Was the man serious? There was no way; he’d walked right past Steve earlier without even a glance of derision. But Howard met his eyes evenly and, after studying his face for a moment, slowly uncurled his arms, opening them wide. Steve felt the tears he’d been desperately holding back slip free from his eyes and latched onto the man before he could withdraw the offer, knocking Howard flat on his back and sprawling over him like he’d get up and leave if he didn’t.

“I’m sorry, Howard, I’m so sorry, please don’t leave me. I’m sorry, I was going to tell you.” He babbled and Howard clutched him tighter, shushing him softly.

“Hey, hey, breathe, darling boy. You’re fine. You’re just fine.”

“Are _we_ fine?”

There was a moment of silence after his question and Steve held his breath desperately, hoping and praying for something, though he wasn’t sure exactly what. Howard’s chest expanded and constricted under him as they lay there, letting the moment stretch between them until Howard broke it.

“Do you remember the first time we ever slept together?”

“Um…in the coat closet at the art gallery? Or—well I suppose that time didn’t involve actual penetration so you mean--in the limo?”

The chest under his ear moved as Howard laughed low and stroked a soft hand down his spine.

“No, Steve, the first time we actually just slept, side by side, in the same bed.”

Steve thought back and warmth spread in his chest at the memory. It was only a month into their relationship, Steve had moved to crawl out of bed after a particularly intense love-making that left his back aching with the movement, when Howard had casually said he could stay, if he wanted. He’d looked at the billionaire for long enough that Howard had started to fidget under his gaze before easily sliding back under the blankets and stating he hadn’t wanted to go out in the snow anyways.

“That night was awful.”

Howard laughed yet again at his petulant tone, and Steve had to admit that looking back it was a bit amusing. Neither of them had been used to sharing a bed, Maria and Howard hadn’t slept in the same bed for most of their marriage, and the only person Steve had ever shared a bed with was Bucky who generally slept curled into a corner. Therefore, that night was the equivalent of putting two St. Bernard’s into a kennel meant for a Mastiff. They fit and there was room, but there were also a lot of knees shoved into hips, elbows digging into ribs, and during one _particularly_ embarrassing leg spasm at two in the morning, Steve actually kicking Howard so hard in the thigh it bruised. At that point, he’d sat up, so flushed you could cook an egg on his cheeks, and suggested he just go.

“Do you remember what I said when you flipped out over kicking me?” Howard asked, and Steve smiled softly at the memory.

“I’d rather sleep a restless night with you than share a bed with anyone else.” He recited, and Howard shifted under him at the words, sliding down until their foreheads were pressed together. He brought a hand up and brushed off the tears before catching Steve’s hand, pulling it up and placing a kiss on the wedding band.

“For better or for worse. I promised you that. And it’s still true. If you making my bed a battle ground a month into our relationship didn’t make me leave, you introducing my son to someone who might actually turn out to be his biggest help a year into our marriage certainly isn’t going to.” Howard stated and Steve closed his eyes, sagging under the relief that hit him like a linebacker.

He let Howard pull him close, settling against the man with a sigh and quickly drifting off. He was distantly aware of Howard typing on his phone, and the sounds of something so mundane, so normal, sent him into dreamland.

 ***********************************

Bucky looked over as his phone chimed on the ledge next to him. He had went straight to his room and out onto the balcony after he’d checked on Tony, the sight of his hands gripping Bucky’s dog tags cracking something inside him. Bucky blew out the inhale he’d taken from his cigarette and scooped up the tech, thumbing it awake. He started at the screen display. Stark had sent him a text. Hell, it was probably telling him to get his shit and get out. Bucky mentally ran through any friends he had stationed down here as he opened the text.

_If someone were to take you back to your childhood home, what would you do?_

He considered the message, his curiosity over the question over-riding any sense of astonishment at the lack of expletives and accusations. Bucky drew deeply on his cigarette as he considered it, flicking a loose ash into the tray next to him before answering as honestly as he could.

_Go sit in my bedroom. A house is just a place, it can hold memories but you can’t allow yourself to be scared of memories._

_Is that a figurative answer or a literal one?_

_First thing I did post bootcamp was find the same girl who turned me down six times in HS, get her to agree to go home with a war hero, and fuck her against the same wall he pinned me against._

_Did it help?_

_In the same way putting a new tattoo over a shitty one does. You know the old ones there, but it’s covered up by something better, something that’s more important._

The phone went silent then for a long while, so long that Bucky stuck it back on the ledge and smoked through another cigarette, figuring Stark had gone to sleep. When it finally sounded again, Bucky immediately picked it up, opening the new message.

_Should we stay?_

_You should leave that up to Tony._

_I asked. He said to ask you. Said you being comfortable in a house where it happened was more important._

Bucky resisted the urge to fling his damn phone across the space between him and the pool, smashing out his cigarette and texting Howard back with one hand as he quickly made his way from his room to Tony’s.

_Let me get back to you._

When he cracked Tony’s door open, for the tenth time that night, he saw that the boy was sitting up in the middle of his bed, legs crossed and chest rising and falling with deep breaths, the tags back in place around his neck. The sound as Bucky pushed it open and slipped inside caused him to crack open one eye, checking to make sure who it was before shutting it, patting the bed in front of him with one hand.

Bucky crossed the distance and copied Tony’s pose as best he could, his knee really didn’t bend as much as the boy’s, nor did the old bullet wound in his thigh appreciate being tugged in such a way. He ended up with one leg extended on the far side of Tony and the foot of his opposite leg pressed flat against the inside of his right thigh. Bucky waited in silence until Tony exhaled hard and opened both eyes, blinking at him before smiling. A fresh wave of rage flowed through him at the sight of the split skin on either side of Tony’s mouth and he had to duck his head and breathe through his nose for a minute before he could speak.

“How ya holding up, kiddo?” Bucky asked, bringing his head up and searching Tony’s face as the boy appeared to consider the question.

“I guess as well as could be expected. I don’t feel like I’m gonna hurl any second anymore, the meditation cleared my head, and my dad said he’s going to let me decide what happens next, completely.”

“But?”

“But on the other hand in the past couple of days I’ve found out my parents have lied to me for eight years, discovered my childhood hero is a sick bastard, and sent the guy I like into a panic attack. So, the scale’s pretty wild right about now.”

Bucky shook his head, careful to not reach out or stiffen under the words, and spun his finger in a lazy circle pointing at himself.

“The freak-out? My fault and my damage. It would have happened no matter what, I’m actually pretty lucky you were there and went to get people.”

Tony went silent at the admission, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and heaving a breath before quietly speaking.

“Will I get those?”

Bucky’s heart clenched and he wanted so badly to lie, to tell him he’d be just fine, it was only screw-ups like him that let it bother them. But the kid had been lied to enough and Stark had asked him to be there for Tony, not lie to his face about important shit.

“Maybe. I’m not going to lie; you’ll probably get some pretty fucked up nightmares. But you’ve got people to talk to, rant at, and sit up with you at night. All the shrinks that say talking it out helps aren’t all wrong. It’s shit when people _try_ to get you to talk about it, but having someone there who’s willing to just _listen_ goes a hell of a long way in healing.”

Tony’s shoulders slumped in relief and he opened his eyes, thanking Bucky with a look before picking at a loose thread on the cuff of his jeans. Bucky recognized the signals, remembered constantly picking rough fabric over soft that would rub and send shivers of disgust down his spine. He also remembered how fabric never mattered when he stole Steve’s clothes, the protection he felt in clothes that hadn’t been tainted over-riding any preference for a texture, and made a mental note to say something to Stark about giving the kid one of his hoodies or something. Maybe he’d see if Steve still had that ratty button up he used to love wearing, give that to him, plus he’d dig through and find his old football jersey. Give the kid some options.

“My dad said he’d leave it up to me to whether or not we stayed here.” Tony mumbled, shooting glances up at him through those long ass eyelashes of his. Bucky stayed very still and tried to keep his voice and face neutral as he answered.

“Yeah? That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, I guess. I know he’s trying to make me feel in control again.”

“Is it working?”

“A little bit. What do you think we should do?”

Bucky pulled his lighter from his pocket and twirled it between his fingers, flicking the top open and closed as he considered the question. He didn’t want to influence Tony’s decision, but he also knew the kid was sharp enough to see straight through him if he tried to lie. Bucky decided to just answer as best he could and hope for the best.

“I think you should do whatever’s going to make you feel comfortable. Whatever you’re not going to regret.”

“If it had happened to you yesterday, if it had been you, what would you do?”

“Personally, I’d enjoy the rest of my vacation as a final fuck-you-you’re-not-ruining-my-fun kinda thing. But I’m different than you, kid. I’ve learned to roll with it.”

Tony straightened and looked hard into his eyes, searching for something in their depths. Bucky kept everything as neutral as he could, returning the stare until Tony nodded and smiled slowly.

“You’re right. Fuck him, he doesn’t get to make me run home crying. If women can point a finger in a courtroom full of people at someone who violated her, I can stay and enjoy the rest of my vacation.” He proclaimed, shoving his fist into the air and Bucky laughed, shaking his head at the kid’s enthusiasm.

Yeah, it was gonna be a hard road for the kid, and it was going to suck bad sitting down at breakfast, but every smile at this point was a step towards normalcy, towards being able to be a teenager again.

“So…ah…I guess we should talk….about us?” Bucky was shaken from his thoughts at Tony’s softly uttered words, focusing to see that he was picking at that same thread once again, head down.

Shit, he thought Tony would wait a while until they had this conversation.

“Tony,” Bucky said gently, rubbing his thumb hypnotically over the lighter. “There isn’t an us anymore. There can’t be.”

“Why not?!” Tony burst out, his head raising and eyes burning with righteous indignation.

“Because your dad—“

“What the hell does he have to do with it? He doesn’t get to run my life, Bucky. I got raped, I didn’t get a lobotomy. I can still think and make my own decisions.” Tony snapped and Bucky was momentarily proud of the kid for being able to state what had happened so quickly.

It had taken him six months to own up to his uncle and then another two after that debacle to tell Steve’s mom. The pride was quickly buried under a wave of frustration and he resumed flicking the lighter open and closed.

“Regardless, you got taken advantage of by someone older. The last thing you need is to get into a relationship with someone like me.”

“So, what am I supposed to do? Find some normal kid my age? Yeah, I can imagine how well that would go. ‘Hi, I’m Tony Stark. I like long walks on the beach and licorice. I’m also a college graduate and a rape victim. Wanna go see a movie?’ Bucky, get real.”

Bucky actually had to clench his fist around the lighter to stop from clapping the kid on the back of his head at the mocking tone. Tony stared at him like he was an idiot before suddenly his expression darkened and his head dropped. He only had a moment to wonder what the hell had happened when Tony’s low voice cut through the air between them.

“Look, if you don’t want me because I’m damaged goods and you don’t wanna deal with it, I’ll understand. But at least do me the respect of saying it outright, not giving me bullshit reasons instead.”

Bucky inhaled sharply and fought to control the rage that flowed through him at the statement. He had gone through the same shit Tony was going through, how in the hell could he judge him or treat him differently? He’d just about settled himself when Tony shifted awkwardly, looking like he was about to bolt.

“Tony, look, I don’t give a damn what happened in your past. You didn’t judge me, I’m sure as hell not gonna judge you. But it’s gonna be hard as hell. Being with me is an emotional death-trap as is, and I don’t want you to feel obligated to screw around in that minefield when you’re trying to avoid triggers of your own.”

“It’s not obligation, James. I like you, I like you a whole hell of a lot. More than I should, apparently according to some. You wanna know what set off Ob—his freak-out?”

Bucky’s head snapped up at the use of his real name and he flinched at Tony’s faltering use of Stane’s first name, but he nodded just the same. Whatever Tony wanted to tell him, he was going to let him. Hell, if the kid wanted him to sit there while he recited a damn telephone book he would.

He’d smoke his way through a pack and a half, but he’d do it.

“I told him you’re the kind of guy I’d consider marrying. And it’s true.”

Bucky laughed low and scrubbed his free hand through his hair in disbelief. This kid…this scrawny little spoiled brat was just about the bravest person he’d ever met, and he’d seen men run into literal minefields before.

“Shit, kid. I…alright, fuckit, fine. You wanna do this, we’re still on. But we move at a glacial pace, understand? I’m not making any moves—“

“You weren’t anyways.” Tony muttered and Bucky shot him a hard look, rolling his eyes at the tongue Tony stuck out in response.

“I’m NOT making any moves, and neither are you for a while. Not that I imagine you’ll want to.”

Tony crossed his arms and quirked his lips, arching a brow at him.

“How do you know? Maybe I’m still that horny little fuck?”

“Yeah, kid, no. Unlikely as hell and the first time you try anything, keep a trashcan near you.” Bucky snorted and Tony paled, blinking at him.

“Am I gonna hurl?”

“I did. First time I ever tried jerking it, I threw up for about an hour. You get used to it, you get past it, but it takes a long ass time.”

Tony nodded, suddenly dead serious, and opened his mouth to say something when the door came open, revealing Howard in the jambs and letting in the scent of something cooking. His eyes narrowed at the scene and Bucky resolutely refused to be cowed, meeting his stare head-on.

“Steve’s making breakfast, Bucky you might wanna go see if he needs help.”

Bucky took the suggestion for the order it truly was and, with one last nod to Tony, stood from the bed and slipped past Howard, who strode into the room, closing the door behind him. He followed the scent of cinnamon and bacon to see Steve standing in front of the stove, covering thick slices of bread in a dip and transferring them to the skillet. Abruptly, as Steve turned when he walked in and met his eyes, he realized this was the first chance they’d had to talk alone since it had happened. Bucky strode to the other side of the stove, far enough away from the popping grease, and hoisted himself up on the counter, swinging his legs slightly. Steve had turned with him and was prodding at the French toast with a fork.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Bucky.”

“I guess we should talk about how I almost ruined your marriage.”

“You didn’t almost ruin it. But we do need to talk.”

Bucky gritted his teeth and nodded. ‘Talking’ with Steve was sort of like going to confession. You were instantly aware of every bad thing you’d done and suddenly five years old again, incredibly remorseful and willing to do anything to repent. But it had to happen, and it was best to do it now while Howard and Tony were hashing their own issues out.

“Alright then, let’s talk.”

 


	18. Stark Men Invented Avoidance Coping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard and Tony bond their relationship by avoiding it almost entirely, and the plot for Obadiah's punishment is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a ton of dialogue, because I wanted to showcase that save for the few instances when Howard or Tony would pause, they were actually having a back and forth conversation without many filters. I hope you guys enjoy the bonding and the look into Steve and Howard's past! :D

Howard sat on the edge of Tony’s bed, both loving and hating how Tony scooted to sit next to him, pressing close from shoulder to thigh. He was ecstatic his son was coming to him for comfort, physical comfort at that, after what had happened, but at the same time his vision still filled with red at the fact Tony even _needed_ the comfort. Howard breathed out slowly, pushing the rage back and remembering the phone call he’d made while sitting on the couch. If that bastard Stane was incredibly lucky, he’d make it inside NYC lines. If not, well, that was unfortunate for him.

Very fortunate for the man he’d promised a million extra to if the plane ‘mysteriously’ went down and Stane’s body was never recovered.

“Dad, what’s going to happen now?”

Howard looked down at where Tony was fiddling with the end of his sleep shirt and patted his son’s back gently.

“He’s going to go way. For good.”

“Do I want to know how you’re going to do that?”

“Diversify your list of friends, Tony. That’s all I’ll say.”

Tony glanced up with a small smile, sitting back so they could look at one another. He seemed to want to speak and Howard shifted back so their whole bodies were turned into one another, trying to appear non-threatening. Tony’s eyes darted around and around the room before he finally seemed to brace himself, speaking with a low voice.

“Are you going to tell mom?”

Ah, shit.

Howard hadn’t even thought of letting Maria know, and didn’t that say everything about their post-divorce relationship?

“That’s up to you. If you want to tell her you can, if you want me to I will, if you never want her to find out, I’ll make that happen too.”

Tony shot him a grateful look, nodding. He went back to picking at a stray thread on the comforter and Howard knew he had a lot more he wanted to talk about. This pausing between every question thing would take forever and Howard would much rather just get it all out in the open so they could hash out whatever was still wrong.

“Alright, Tony, whatever’s on your mind let me know. I won’t get mad, we won’t fight over it, but I need to know what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Tony huffed out a breath and looked up at him, quirking a brow as if to say ‘yeah, right’. Howard held up his hands and shrugged.

“Hey, if you never want to talk at all that’s alright too. But I want you to know that right now this is an open zone. A free-talk space, as Steve calls it.”

“He’s big on talking, huh?”

“To my never-ending consternation, yes.”

His son laughed, and Howard was relieved at the sound. If Tony could still laugh, it meant he wasn’t wrecked by the experience. Not that he figured he would be, his kid was nothing if not strong.

“Alright, I guess I do have a few things I wanna talk about. But, ah, can we trade?”

“Trade?”

“I’ll ask you something, or tell you something, and you tell me something maybe similar. I figure if we’re gonna bond we might as well go all-out right?”

Howard considered the suggestion for a moment, rubbing a hand along his jaw. He knew his son, Tony was devious as hell and even post trauma he’d be smart enough to ask awkward questions. But at the same time, he really wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to bond with his son, especially given the hit Tony’s trust had just taken.

“Alright, kid, fair enough. But I reserve the right to refuse to answer if it’s too personal.” He said, and Tony nodded, grinning eagerly.

Oh….he was regretting this already.

“Okay, so…I feel filthy. Still. Like there’s dirt somewhere inside me and I know it’s there but I can’t reach it. Kinda like when you’ve got an itch inside your ear?”

“I can understand that. Ah…hell, let’s see. Something similar…Alright, yeah. One time at MIT I was with this one girl, she kept saying she had to leave at 3 on the nose. So fine, we screwed around and right before it got to the main event I saw it was 3. But hey, stupid college kid, so I didn’t say anything. Turns out she needed to leave at 3 to get to her grandmother’s funeral. I felt like just about the biggest asshole on the planet.”

“Jesus, Dad, what did you do?”

“I might have bought a whole wall off the flower shop and sent it to her grave anonymously.”

Tony laughed, throwing his head back and clapping his hands.

“Shit! I love this game! Alright, so, that phone sex Bucky brought up?”

Howard resisted the urge to growl and reminded himself this was a massive opportunity for bonding but if he handled it badly he could also screw up their relationship even worse than screaming at each other and tearing apart the dining room did.

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever done that?”

“Ah, hell, isn’t that a bit awkward to ask your dad?”

“Noooo, awkward was having my dad wipe cum off my face. I feel like we’ve surpassed awkward at this point.”

Howard clenched his fists and gritted his teeth at the reminder. He’d burned that damn thing as soon as he’d walked away from it all, but the memory still remained. And as fucked up as it was, all he could think about when he’d seen Tony was how the boy had looked post-birth, with the slick all babies came out covered in. He wasn’t too proud to admit he’d gone into shock over that mental comparison, partly the reason he’d ran away so fast. There had been enough bodily fluids in that room already, he hadn’t been too eager to add vomit to the list.

“Alright, yeah, fine, you’ve got a point. Only with one person.”

“Steve?”

“Yes.”

“Alrighty, **that** tone says that conversation is done. So, next topic. Umm…I told him before it all happened that Bucky was the type of guy I’d consider marrying. That’s what set him off, I think. What made you wanna marry Steve?”

Howard worked his jaw for a moment, ignoring the way Tony still stumbled over mentioning the man. The question was loaded, and Howard had to think of the best way to answer.

“I’m not sure, exactly. To be honest, and as much as it sounds like something out of a Lifetime movie, there’s so much about him that I love.”

“No,” Tony shook his head, leaning forward slightly. “There’s gotta be something that made him different from all the other one night stands.”

“Well, probably because he doesn’t take any of my shit. Even when we first met, he basically told me to go fuck myself.”

“Seriously?! No freaking way.”

“Yeah, uh, freaking way?”

Tony rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Hey, yeah, no, Dad, don’t try to be cool. So, what happened? I know you guys met at the art thingy—“

“Thingy? And I dropped thousands for you to go to MIT.”

“Yes, well, that was your mistake. So you guys met and what, he just told you to screw yourself?”

“Not exactly. Like I said, I had to attend the art gallery and I saw that night scene. I figured I needed something for the office anyways so I went ahead and bought it. Steve walked over to thank me, and I hit on him. It worked, well enough to get us into a coat closet at least. But afterwards, I asked him if he wanted to come back to the house and get his mind blown even further—“

Howard held up a hand as Tony grinned widely and opened his mouth to speak, pointing a finger.

“Ah! I am aware it’s a crap line, but I was drunk. So after that _fantastic_ line, he smiled, thanked me again, and told me to go fuck myself.”

“So, what you decided you were in love with him?”

“No, no, I didn’t figure that out until a little later.”

Tony blinked and started picking at the blanket again, a low flush on his cheeks. Howard tapped his knee with a finger, bringing his attention back up.

“What?”

“Ah…how do you know you’re in love?”

Howard rubbed his jaw once again, leaning back on the bed and thinking for a moment. Tony’s question was complicated, but then again when was anything easy with Tony’s questions? To be honest, it was hard to realize you were in love. And he wasn’t about to share with Tony when he’d realized it with Steve. The man had been riding him slowly, they were actually making love as dawn broke, and as Howard had looked up at him, that powerful body glowing in the low light, head thrown back as moans of ecstasy tumbled from between those gorgeous lips, he’d realized losing Steve would rip his very heart out of his chest.

Regardless of the fact it’d been a month in, and the morning after Steve had slept over for the first time.

“It’s different for everyone. But for me, it was when I realized how much it would hurt if Steve left. It was me figuring out that even if we argued and bickered with one another, my first instinct in bed was to wrap my arms around him. I think maybe love is looking at the person and realizing that if they leave they’re taking a huge chunk of you with them.”

Tony nodded, still oddly quiet, and Howard could see the gears turning in his head. He sighed and shook his head, spearing his fingers through his hair and feeling every single one of his fifty years at that very moment. He hadn’t expected to have this conversation with Tony until the kid was a lot older, though he couldn’t say he was completely unhappy that his son thought he’d found love so young.

“You think it’s Barnes, don’t you?”

Tony’s head snapped up, his eyes wide, and his face pale. He looked around the room, before nodding slightly, cheeks filling with color that looked bright against the light pallor. Howard resisted the urge to groan and palm his face. Shit, not ideal. But at this point, honestly, would anyone else be able to understand what Tony had gone through? Why he was the way he was?

Be able to put up with all his shit?

“You haven’t known him very long.”

“And in the time I have, he’s comforted me post-rape, chased me down after I found out about mom, and not put up with any of _my_ shit. I feel like how well you know someone shouldn’t be measured in minutes and days, Dad.”

Shit, Howard really hated that he had such a smart kid.

He stretched, holding it for longer than he needed as he thought about what to say next. Damnit, this was why Steve handled thank-you cards and birthday gifts for people. He was a hell of a lot better with words and sentiment than Howard.

“Alright, look, here’s the deal. You’re still only sixteen Tony, so I don’t want you two screwing around. But if you want to hang around with him, bring him with us places, all the shit a twelve year old would do with their quote unquote boyfriend, that’s fine. However, I’ll tell you what I told him. If he hurts you, I’ll have him murdered.”

“You could just let Steve at him.” Tony muttered, and the seriousness of the moment was broken as they both started to chuckle. Howard thought back to seeing his sensitive artist with his fists covered in blood, rage filling those normally sparkling blue eyes.

“Shit, he’s something, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, totally. I never would have thought—“

“Me either, and I’ve known him a hell of a lot longer.”

Silence reigned again as they both sat with their thoughts, before Tony spoke up once more, his voice a bit shaky.

“Are you going to make me go to therapy?”

“Do you feel like you need to?”

“Not…really? I feel like dwelling on it’s the worst thing I could do, and I’ve got you and Steve and Bucky if I need to talk about it.”

“Alright,” Howard nodded, inwardly extremely pleased that he had made the list of people Tony felt comfortable talking to. “If you change your mind, let me know and I’ll set something up.”

Tony nodded and climbed off the bed, stretching before thumbing over his shoulder towards the door. Howard’s phone went off and Tony spoke over it as he fished it from his pocket, climbing off the bed.

“Great talk, pops. Thanks for sharing that shit with me. I’m gonna go bother Steve and Bucky, okay?”

Howard waved a hand at him, following him out the door and making sure Tony had disappeared into the kitchen before answering the call.

“Stark.”

“Did you want him to go down over the ocean or would you rather he be exposed for what he is?”

“Let him get on NYC soil. I’ll still front the extra because I know your boy has him in his sights right now, mid-air and all. But I don’t want the bastard to die a hero, be remembered fondly. He’ll be hiding out for a while when he gets back anyways, and Stark Industries security has already been informed he is to get nowhere near the building. Think your boss can dig me up enough proof to ruin the bastard?”

“I think we can figure something out. Are you thinking Tony wasn’t the first?”

Howard slumped against the wall and ran a hand over his face, the reality of his thoughts repeated back to him knocking the wind from his sails for a moment.

“How often do rapists or child molesters stop at just one?”

“Once they’ve started? Rarely.”

“That’s what I thought. I want justice for them too, so find me everything you can. If we can expose him as the disgusting fuck he really is, it won’t be very suspicious at all when he turns up dead.”

“Right. And police don’t tend to look too hard into the murders of people who are better off gone anyways. I’ll give the stand down order, and make a few calls to start the digging. You realize he’ll want something in return, right?”

They always did. Especially given the secretive bastard they were talking about.

“You tell him if he can get me enough to convict him so that no lawyer in the world could get him off, I’ll make him anything he wants.”

“Fair enough, I’ll pass the message along.”

“Good deal. And Coulson?”

“Hmmm?”

“Thank you. And give my thanks to Clint too.”

“You act like taking down a degenerate is tough on us.”

“Regardless.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll be in contact.”

The connection was cut then and Howard couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. When he’d met Phil Coulson, the guy had stomped into his lab, ripped the cover off of a vent, and pulled a mud covered young man in fatigues out of the duct by his ankle, smiling blandly at Howard as he dragged the whining boy across the ground, never pausing or saying a word the whole time. He’d made an impression, obviously they both had, and even sweat covered and tired, Howard knew those two would be good friends to have.

A point that proved true when he found out that mud-covered kid hiding out in his metal work was _the_ best sniper on the planet.

He slipped the phone into his pocket and strode towards the kitchen, oddly happy despite the circumstances. Stane was going to get what he deserved, he’d actually spent time with his son without fighting, and his skin still smelled like Steve’s cologne from where his lover had curled against him. It wasn’t a Golden Gate by any means, but Howard was slowly building himself a footbridge to Copacetic-town, and even if the process was long and arduous, he knew it would be more than worth it in the end.


	19. Looking to The Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and Bucky bond over food fights and tears, and Howard and Steve re-connect in the oldest way known to man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, we're getting so very close to the end. But do not despair people. Do not. We still have a few chapters to go, though those will be no doubt time-jumped a bit. I became aware if I were to write day by day by day this story would have over a hundred chapters, and no one has time to read all that *laughs*   
> As always, I hope you enjoy!

Steve poked at the pieces of bacon, flipping a few that looked ready and transferring one of them onto the plate covered with a paper towel to cool. He could feel Bucky’s stare on the side of his head and once he’d moved everything around he could, set the fork down and met his best friend’s gaze. Bucky was looking at him solidly, though his eyes kept darting to the bruises on Steve’s knuckles, exposed by the way he’d crossed his arms over his chest.

He shrugged uncomfortably, letting his arms fall to his sides and shifting his hands so his palms were showing. Bucky grinned in response, shaking his head and holding out his arms.

“C’mere, you scrappy bastard.”

Steve sighed and let himself fall into Bucky’s warmth, hands gripping the man’s shirt tightly. It was as if he was ten again, skinny and weak, curling into Bucky’s body heat to avoid getting a chill. He shuddered and gripped tighter, burying his face into Bucky’s throat, ignoring the ache in his knuckles from holding on.

“I was going to kill him.”

“I don’t think anyone would have blamed you, Stevie.”

“Yeah, but…I’m not a killer, Bucky. I don’t lose control like that. I don’t do spur of the moment things.” He argued, pulling back and transferring more bacon to the plate, adding a few more strips.

Bucky laughed from behind him and gave Steve an incredulous look, crossing his arms.

“Oh no, you _never_ do anything impulsive.”

“I don’t! Name the last time I ever did something randomly, Buck.”

“Well, there was the whole giving Stark a handy in the art gallery.”

Steve flushed and planted his hands on his hips, glaring at his oldest friend, who shrugged unrepentantly, snagging a piece of bacon. He moved the plate to the other side of the stove, ignoring Bucky’s cry of protest, and spun back to face him.

“Name something that didn’t have to do with Howard. He…he makes my judgment go on a vacation.”

“Must be a family trait,” Bucky muttered, before gnawing at his bottom lip and looking up in thought. After a moment he snapped his fingers and pointed at Steve.

“Ah! Senior year! Two months after you turned 18.”

“What in the hell did I do then?” Steve honestly couldn’t remember doing anything back then.

Bucky rolled his eyes and stuck his chest out, bringing his hands up to rub slow circles over his nipples, licking his lips lasciviously. Steve flushed a deeper red at the memory and swatted Bucky with the spatula he was using the move the French toast onto a plate.

“Bucky! I thought we agreed to forget about that!”

“No, no, no. **You** agreed to forget about that. **I** still have the pictures.”

Steve groaned and dropped more toast into the pan, shame still filling him at the memory. It’d been some off-hand comment at graduation, some jerk remarking that Steve had gone his whole high school life never doing anything exciting. So, when he’d turned 18, Steve had dragged himself out of bed bright and early, popped into the nearest piercing parlor, and gotten steel rings shoved into both his nipples. They looked hot as hell, but he’d regretted them the next morning. The good news was, with the rapid healing his body under-went, the holes had closed up within a couple of days of taking them out.

Of course, he’d made the mistake of sending a picture to Bucky once he’d gotten them. A picture he assumed the man had deleted.

So much for assumptions.

“You should get those again. They were hot.”

“Ah, no. I doubt my husband wants to be married to someone who runs around with metal hanging from his nipples.”

Bucky went oddly silent, for so long that Steve turned his attention from the toast back to his friend in concern. He was staring at the floor, almost unmoving save for the rise and fall of his chest.

“Buck?”

“So you guys are okay?”

Bucky’s voice was quiet, his tone low, and he addressed the floor when he spoke. Steve reached out and placed a warm palm on his knee, shaking it gently.

“We’ll get there, we’re already on our way. I told you that you didn’t ruin my marriage.”

“Yeah, but I could have. That’s the worst part. I could have wrecked the happiness you’ve found.”

“Yes, and by introducing you to Tony, I could have gotten you thrown in prison. We’re just about even, I think.”

Bucky laughed at that, shaking his head and batting playfully at Steve. It degenerated from there, throwing playful smacks, until Steve upped the ante by flicking French toast batter at Bucky. The moment froze as it splattered against his cheek, stilling his face in its dumbfounded expression before an evil grin stretched his friend’s mouth. Bucky hopped off the table and dipped his hand in the batter pointedly, before slowly raising it, pressing it with all five fingers stretched wide right into the middle of Steve’s chest. Just like that, all bets were off. Steve turned the stove off before diving for the counter where’d he’d left the flour, groaning at the slick slide of an egg down the back of his shirt.

By the time they both collapsed against each other and slid to the floor, they were covered from head to toe in various condiments and foodstuffs, as well as having decorated the walls with missed throws. Steve curled around his best friend, both of them laughing uproariously, clinging to one another. The laughter grew more and more hysterical until before Steve knew it, they were both sobbing, clutching onto one another. Steve couldn’t describe the feeling inside of him. It was as if he was glowing with happiness and sinking in despair all in the same moment. It was the oddest, worst, and best feeling he’d ever had.

“I thought—I thought we were going to lose him.” Steve sobbed out, clutching onto Bucky’s shirt who nodded furiously.

“W-We almost did. You smart bas-bastard, you came back. You saved h-him.”

The reality of how easily they could’ve left Tony alone, to god knows what fate without intervention, hit them both hard, creating a massive shudder in their bodies that resonated through them. Steve buried his head in Bucky’s neck once again, feeling the man curl around him in response. They sat like that for a good while, letting their sobs die down naturally. One thing Steve’s mom had taught them both was that true men knew that crying was healthy and necessary, certainly nothing to be ashamed of. They’d done this a few times before, though never to the extreme they were at that moment.

Once Steve brought his head up and shakily stood, trying his best not to slip on the slick, food-covered floor, he hauled Bucky up as well, bracing him. Shaking his head and picking out bits of egg shell, he turned, freezing when he saw Tony and Howard standing in the doorway of the kitchen, mouths agape.

“Uhm,” he stuttered, looking around furiously before snatching the bacon plate off the counter and holding it out towards the two. “Bacon?”

It broke whatever silence had descended upon the four and the two Stark’s started to laugh, Tony picking his way through the kitchen to help Bucky wipe off bits of food, Howard crossing to Steve to cup his face, giving him a gentle kiss and putting the plate back on the counter.

“Let’s get you cleaned off.” Howard murmured against his lips, tugging him towards the hallway. Once they got to the entrance of the hall, Howard paused and looked over Steve’s shoulder.

“Order in breakfast, we’ll eat out by the fire pit. And no screwing around.”

Steve could almost see Tony roll his eyes before he responded.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be virginal Victorian maidens. Go spend some quality time together, you two. You need it.”

The serious note on the end had Steve looking back, and smiling in response to the shy grin Tony gave him. The kid was trying, he really was, and Howard seemed to know it as well, nodding before dragging Steve down the hall and into their bedroom. He stripped him carefully of the soiled clothes, pushing him into the shower and starting the water. Steve immediately started to wash off the filth, shoving his head under the water and scrubbing hard. A sudden blast of cold let him know the door had been opened, and he wiped the water from his face, looking around to see Howard standing there, shifting nervously. Steve grinned and stepped forward, holding out his arms in welcome.

The older man slipped into them easily, accepting Steve’s kiss, as he sighed at the feel of their bodies pressed together. It had been too long, and too much had happened, since they’d last just been with one another. Steve could feel his body harden in response to the slick press of Howard’s skin, and shifted his hips away in embarrassment. They were just on their way to being alright again, the last thing Howard probably wanted was—

A surprised moan tumbled from Steve’s mouth as Howard gripped him firmly, pulling his hips close with his free hand. Steve blinked away the water and searched his lover’s face, smiling tentatively when he saw nothing but love and affection in those dark eyes he adored. Howard smiled softly in return, pulling him into a soft kiss as he pumped his hand lazily.

“Ah, Howard.” Steve whined, letting Howard guide him until his back pressed against the far wall, Howard crowded in close to him.

“Shhh, let me love you, darling boy. Steve, my sweet, perfect, fierce little lover. Just let me love you.” Howard whispered in return, in between gentle kisses as he kept up an even rhythm.

They stayed like that, pressed together, whispering endearments and declarations of love into each other’s skin until Steve arched with a cry, spilling over Howard’s knuckles. He pulled the older man into a kiss, pressing their foreheads together when they pulled away for breath.

“God, I love you so much, Howard.”

“And I love you darling.”

“So we’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Howard murmured, stealing another gentle kiss. “We’re going to be just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? I can write softcore porn just as easily. The next chapter will take place a little while down the road, but I promise that this story will have no loose ends, so all questions and concerns will be covered before the final word is written!


	20. His Greatest Creation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Planning for the future, tying up every loose ends, and good times with good company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, done. This is the first story I've ever completed, the first fanfiction I've ever written. Thank you so much to everyone who gave kudos and commented, you guys kept me going and I hope I do the ending justice.
> 
> And to the wonderful OP who prompted this story to begin with, I really hope you enjoyed it and that it was all you were hoping for :D

**_Three Months Later_ **

“Howard, hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Steve called up the stairs, impatiently adjusting his cufflinks as he shot Jarvis an amused look.

“How in the world does a man whose livelihood depends on keeping a tight schedule always run so late?” He asked exasperatedly, and Jarvis merely shrugged, adjusting his own coat.

The sounds of pounding footsteps sounded before Howard appeared at the top of the stairs, hurriedly coming down them, tie still untied around his neck and coat hanging open.

“Sorry! I’m sorry, darling boy. Had to take a call at the last second.” He explained, crossing to them.

Steve shook his head at the shining glint in Howard’s eyes, neatly tying his tie for him before using the silk to pull the older man into a kiss. Howard immediately took his hands from where he was fastening his coat and cupped Steve’s face, deepening the kiss. Steve huffed into his lover’s mouth and pulled away, scowling at Howard’s cheeky grin. He shook a finger in the man’s face while Jarvis led them outside, sliding into a separate car and waving his goodbyes before driving off. The older man was going to pick up Marta and take her out to dinner, Howard having given both of them the night off.

Steve slid into the back of the waiting car, scooting over to make room for Howard, relaxing back against the seat once the door was shut and they started on their way. He felt a strong palm slide up his inner thigh and snapped his legs shut, eyes opening as he shot Howard a glare. In response, his husband pulled his hand from between Steve’s thighs and trailed it up over the seam of his pants, applying the barest pressure.

“Will you knock it off? What’s gotten into you, Howie?”

Howard laughed in response, shaking his head and pulling Steve into a kiss that left him breathless and dizzy. Once they separated, the need for air outweighing the need for contact, he nuzzled Steve’s cheek, smiling against him.

“Coulson just called.”

“Phil? Is everything alright with him and Clint? I just talked to Clint yesterday about our dinner plans later this month! Did something happen?”

“Darling!” Howard chuckled and held up a hand, cutting off Steve’s worried babbling. “Everything is fine. But the newspapers will have quite the headline tomorrow.”

Steve felt his eyes widen in response as the meaning of his lover’s words occurred to him, grasping Howard’s hand tightly.

“Something maybe like ‘Child Molester Found Dead’?” He asked hopefully, exhaling in a rush of relief when Howard nodded.

A part of him that still held compassion for all human life felt minutely bad about whooping in joy and pulling Howard into another rough, dirty kiss, but it was far outweighed by the satisfaction of karma dealt. The past month had been hell, between exposing Obadiah for what he truly was, dealing with the backlash of such a person being so involved with Stark Industries, and coaxing Tony through the healing process. It was still on going and the boy still flinched or jumped when someone got too close too fast, but he wasn’t bursting into their room late at night anymore with panicked eyes and a voice hoarse from screaming.

Steve shuddered at the memory of the first time their door had flung open wide in the wee hours of the morning, startling both him and Howard out of sound sleeps. Steve had barely had time to sit up before Tony had crashed into his chest, knocking him back and sobbing into Steve’s skin that he didn’t want him near him, that he wished he would go away, oh god, Steve, make him go away. Steve had laid there and cried with the boy, his heart breaking over Tony’s shrieking pleas to fix him, to make him better.

They’d found out about a week after they’d got home that the act itself hadn’t done as much damage as Tony’s dark thought spiral had, coming home from a night out at dinner to find Tony sitting in the dark of his room, writing words like ‘disgusting’ and ‘slut’ on his skin in huge letters. By the time they’d gotten there, Tony had covered just about every part of his body with the slurs, and was tracing them over and over, rocking himself back and forth. But the boy had gone to a few meetings of victims, still talked to them every so often, and had come to terms with the fact that he had done nothing to provoke it, despite what his mind had told him.

Between them and the support system Tony had at home, the boy had recovered remarkably quickly, though there were still days where he curled up in an old hoodie of Steve’s or comfortable worn shirt of Howard’s and merely wanted to just be around people, be it sitting quietly in the sunroom while Steve painted, or napping on the couch in Howard’s office while he went about his daily business.

The worst days, though, were always obvious, and while they were further and further apart, they were still heartbreaking to see. Tony would dress in loose sweats and Bucky’s beat up football jersey, go wedge himself into the corner of the couch in the entertainment room, pile blanket after blanket atop him and sleep most of the day away, with the sounds of old black and white films playing in the background. On those days, either Steve or Howard, sometimes even Jarvis or Marta, would call Bucky as soon as they figured out what was going on. Bucky would roll into the house about an hour or so later, dressed down in sweats of his own, and go curl around Tony, either pulling the boy to sprawl atop him under the blankets or spooned behind him, letting Tony hold their laced hands against his chest, the dog tags clutched between them.

At the thought of those tags, Steve snickered into Howard’s mouth and the man pulled back, arching a brow at him in question.

“What’s so funny, sweetheart?”

“Ah, I just still can’t believe you made Buck Tony’s bodyguard.”

Howard shrugged, leaning back to his side of the seat and fishing out his phone from the pocket of his slacks after the small ding of a new message sounded.

“He’s more than qualified, despite his age, given his military background and he’s certainly more trustworthy than the last one.”

Steve scowled at the mention of the other moron. Howard had insisted on getting Tony one after a kidnapping attempt gone bad about a month back, stating that now that Tony was back home and wasn’t on a densely populated college campus, people were probably going to try more often to get him. The man they’d chosen appeared quite trustworthy, until he and Tony went to visit Howard at the office and the man ignored completely that Obadiah had gotten past SI security, slipping off to sneak a cigarette in, leaving Tony defenseless when the man found him.

Stane had pinned Tony against the wall of a third floor break room before one of Howard’s secretaries who’d gone looking for the boy found them and tazed the son-of-a-bitch, knocking him out before calling the cops. It had been quite the debacle, at that point news had already gotten out of Obadiah’s past sins and so when Howard quite publicly had him removed from the building the tabloids had gone wild.

“Plus,” Howard mused, typing back on the screen distractedly as he glanced at Steve. “It was perfect timing. Barnes’ contract was up, and the closer and closer it got to time for him to re-enlist or opt out, Tony was more mopey. I’d make him CEO if it’d stop the boy from throwing himself across my kitchen island and sighing like some soap opera star.”

Steve laughed at the memories. It was true, Bucky hadn’t said much about his decision to re-enlist or not and so every time anyone brought it up, Tony would dramatically sigh and mention, not so subtly, how he hated the idea of Bucky going away. After two weeks of it, Howard was at his breaking point, starting to whap Tony with whatever was nearest the moment he started to act like a pining virgin.

He’d finally had enough and called Bucky over one day, the two of them disappearing into the cigar room for over an hour while Tony and Steve waited not-so-patiently in the kitchen, annoying Marta and wondering what in the world they were discussing. They’d come out and were soon ambushed, Howard merely pointing at Bucky and telling Tony he was his new bodyguard before dragging Steve off.

“Did someone text you?” He asked, the beep of the alert breaking him from his thoughts.

“Yeah, Tony. I guess he and Barnes are already at the restaurant and are, according to him, wasting away at the sight of all the food and only being restrained by manners and decorum to not just order and tell us to screw off.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head as the car suddenly stopped and the engine was killed. He shot Howard a grin, clamoring out after the man and pausing when a flash went off to his right. Howard wrapped an arm around him and shot him a small smile, which Steve returned blindingly, ignoring the flashes as they strode into the restaurant together.

Their relationship had come to light about a month ago, when paparazzi had caught Steve and Tony jogging together in Central Park and started wildfire rumors about him being in a relationship with the younger Stark. Howard had quickly put those rumors to rest, stating quite plainly that Steve was his. To be honest, the backlash hadn’t been as bad as Steve had expected. Sure, there were more than a few gold-digger comments, but overall people seemed happy that Howard Stark had finally been tamed, and the response from the LGBT community had been astonishing. Steve still got emails about how their relationship had urged other’s to reveal their own, be it with someone of the same sex, or someone much older or younger than themselves.

Steve was pulled from his thoughts when they entered the private back room where Tony and Bucky sat at the table, pressed close together like thieves. He grinned at the two, hugging them both before plopping down in the seat Howard pulled out for him. The man sat down on his right, leaning around to address Bucky while Tony and Steve leaned together to peruse the menu.

“I certainly hope you behaved yourself last night, Barnes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and shot Howard the finger, putting his glass of wine back down onto the table.

“Yeah, yeah, your precious baby’s virginity is still intact, Stark. Don’t have a cow.”

“Unfortunately.” Tony muttered under his breath, grunting at the elbow Steve shoved into his side in response.

In a way, Steve was glad that they were still waiting to completely consummate their relationship, though Bucky did admit that they’d fooled around the night of Tony’s seventeenth birthday. Both of them had so many issues and triggers when it came to sex, it was nice to see that they were both respecting each other’s boundaries.

“Kid, get your damn hand off my leg.”

Well….Bucky was respecting boundaries.

Steve laughed at the way Bucky swatted at Tony who ducked and leaned into him with puckered lips. He whined at the older man until Bucky sighed and dropped his head for a quick kiss, brushing their mouths together gently. Howard’s arm came around him, tugging him back into his husband’s warmth as they watched the two bicker.

“Do they remind you of anyone?” Howard murmured into his ear, nuzzling into his throat as Steve chuckled.

In a way, it was true. Bucky and Tony went back and forth just as fiercely as he and Howard had those first few months they’d dated. Though Steve couldn’t say it hadn’t worked out very much in their favor.

“Hmmm, no one that I know of.” He whispered in return, their chuckles bringing around Tony and Bucky’s heads.

“Hey, hey now, none of that. No being all mushy-gushy while at the table. We have rules for these sorts of things.”

“I thought those rules only applied at the house, and certainly only applied to don’t _screw_ on the table.”

“Yeah, but you don’t obey _that_ rule either, so give me something here.”

Steve shook his head, flushing at the memories as father and son began to light heartedly bicker back and forth. Getting used to another person in the house who didn’t keep the predictable times the staff did had taken some time, and involved Tony almost walking in, or fully walking in, on Howard and Steve in various rooms. They’d learned to keep their adventurous night-time escapades to rooms Tony had no reason to enter, and Tony had learned to knock before opening doors that were closed.

It had come to a head a few times, Howard getting frustrated with Tony’s inability to knock, and Tony getting frustrated with seeing his father in compromising positions. But even if Howard and Tony bickered and argued and even occasionally shouted, they never got quite as bad as they had those first few days, and they always made it a point to at least settle down a bit before it was time for bed.

“So, I asked you guys out to dinner to discuss something with you.”

Tony’s somber tone made Steve sit forward and Howard tangled their fingers together, giving him something to clutch onto. Tony inhaled before looking over to Bucky, who took his hand, thumb running over the back of the boy’s knuckles. It seemed to brace him and he turned back towards them, glancing between them both as he spoke.

“Bucky and I have done a lot of talking about it, and we think maybe we’re ready for it. And even if we’re not, it’s not like it’s a horrible idea anyways, it would actually work out pretty well.”

Steve nodded, feeling Howard tense at his back. He squeezed their hands, smiling at the man when he glanced over. Whatever Tony was trying to bring up, it was obviously something important to him, and Steve could see him carefully picking out his words.

“See, okay, here’s the thing. Bucky’s lease is up at the end of this month, and his apartment’s nice, but it’s not mansion nice. So I, well we, were wondering, if you guys would consider—“

“You want Barnes to move in?” Howard interrupted, looking between the two.

Tony nodded, swallowing hard, and Bucky merely met Howard’s stare evenly, though when his eyes darted to Steve’s they had a glint of apprehension in them. He tried to suffuse his own gaze with as much warmth as he could, clenching his hands tightly. Howard’s word was law here, even if Steve argued, at the end of the day, it was Howard’s home and Howard’s son and what he said would go.

“Where would he sleep, if he did?”

“Well, that’s up to you. I mean, ideally I’m not gonna lie, I’d like for him to just sleep in my room with me. But if I can only get him in the same house, not the same room, I’ll take that too.” Tony responded, and Steve was a bit taken aback at the mature words coming from the boy who still stomped down to breakfast some mornings in batman pajamas and slumped against the counter, moaning like a dying whale until someone brought him chocolate milk.

Howard leveled his stare at Bucky, the man straightened under the force of his gaze, locking their eyes.

“What do you think about all this?”

“From a professional standpoint, it makes sense. If for some reason you would need to mobilize quickly and change locations, me being right there with Tony would be one less worry on your mind.”

“And from a personal one?”

Bucky looked at Tony, his gaze softening as he did, squeezing the younger boy’s hand before once again meeting Howard’s eyes.

“The fact that my boyfriend still calls me crying some nights because of nightmares and all I can do is comfort him over the phone drives me up a fucking wall. Even if I can’t sleep in the same room with him, being able to be there when he wakes up scared and hold him would make me feel a hell of a lot better.”

Howard nodded and opened his mouth, but before he could answer, the waiter popped up at the side of their table, asking if they were ready to order. They all put their orders in, Tony leaning over to help Bucky decipher the Italian the menu was written in. Steve let Howard order for them both, like he had since they’d first started going to the restaurant, trusting his husband’s tastes. Once the waiter strode off, silence reigned over the table, no one willing to break it. Howard finally turned to Steve and gestured with an open palm towards the two.

“What do you think, darling boy?”

Steve bit his lip, his parental instinct that had popped up over the time he’d spent with Tony warring with his desire to help out his best friend. He finally decided to be as truthful as he could, while still leaving the decision mainly up to Howard.

“I think Bucky’s right; it makes sense to have an extra bodyguard at the mansion at all times. I know you’re worried about them being so close, but I trust them both to behave themselves. At the same time, though, Howie, Tony’s a legal adult now and it’s his home as much as it is ours. Asking him to not be intimate, if they ever decide to be, in his own home with his lover is a bit insane of a request.”

Howard nodded, mulling it all over, while Tony waited at the edge of his seat and Bucky held onto the boy’s hand, the tightness in his shoulders at odds with his relaxed expression. Finally, Howard sighed and turned back to them, addressing them both, but looking at Tony.

“Fine, you can move in. And Steve’s right, there’s no point in asking you to stay in different rooms, Tony would just sneak over. It’s not like you can get him pregnant, so it’s not as huge of a concern, but my threat still stands, Barnes. Especially under my own roof. And it is still _my_ roof, so I don’t want to walk in on your two necking in the common areas, understand?”

Tony nodded and whooped with joy loudly thanking Steve for coming down on their side before planting a smacking kiss on his cheek. He sputtered and then laughed at Howard’s possessive growl, kissing away the scowl on his face as Tony started chatting animatedly to Bucky about scheduling the move. Steve leaned back into Howard’s solid body, looking up at the man while he argued with Tony about what constituted a ‘common area’.

He grinned at the banter, catching Bucky’s eye and winking at the man who looked halfway between terrified and excited at the prospect of being near Tony 24/7. As the calm atmosphere of the restaurant met the tones of them all talking, a warmth spread inside Steve’s chest. Somehow, between meeting a man who just didn’t give up the chase, a boy who was too smart for his own good, and mixing those with the one person who had seen past the coughing and wheezing of his childhood, Steve had created himself an honest-to-god _family_.

And that was truly his greatest work of art.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the end....so not.
> 
> These boys are amazingly fun and there's still so much I want to show you all, how Howard and Steve met, their first date, the first holiday with these 4 as a family, Bucky and Tony's first time, just so so much. So this story is over, but this series is far from it!
> 
> And, as always, if there's something you guys wanna see from these 4 just let me know! Thank you all again and I hope you enjoyed taking this journey with me :D

**Author's Note:**

> In this story Howard is 50, Tony is 16, and both Steve and Bucky are 26.


End file.
